


See You Next

by rougeandtonic



Series: See You Next [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: (see notes for details on the tags), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Future, Angst, Drunk victor, Getting Back Together, Happy Ending, M/M, Pining, Post-Break Up, Post-Episode 12 AU, Ridiculously in Love Victor, Victor is a disaster, Yuuri is broken, drunk yuuri, mention of Katsuki Yuuri/Others
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-09-30 22:40:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 32,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10174016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rougeandtonic/pseuds/rougeandtonic
Summary: Yuuri realizes that he'll sabotage Victor's career if he asks him to coach and compete at the same time. This leads to a standoff of ultimatums over who will skate and who won't.A standoff that ends with Victor in St Petersburg and Yuuri half a world away.Or,In which Yuuri needs to learn to listen and Victor needs to learn to speak.





	1. December to August

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I hesitate to read fics with the tags above, so I want to give some explanation.
> 
> \- This is a post breakup fic. It's a lot of angst, but it's not all angst and Victor and Yuuri aren't completely separated the whole time. And there is a happy ending, I promise!
> 
> \- There are mentions of Yuuri with other men. It is not a major part of the plot or described in detail. There is no cheating or emotional involvement.
> 
> Warnings: The tags ‘No Archive Warnings Apply’ and 'Happy Ending’ are accurate. To allow for reader interpretation (and later revelations), I preferred not to put trigger warnings in the end notes. I actually only have a couple warnings, but if you know you have specific triggers, [please click here for warnings](https://rougeandtonic.tumblr.com/post/160234877123/warnings-for-see-you-next-to-allow-for).

DECEMBER
    
    
    ---------------------------------   
    
    
    GRAND PRIX SERIES FINAL   
    
    
    Dec 10-13  Barcelona, Spain   
    
    
    ---------------------------------   
    
    
    MEN, FINAL RESULT   
    
    
    1  [RU] Yuri PLISETSKY
    
    
    2  [JP] Yuuri KATSUKI
    
    
    3  [CA] Jean-Jacques LEROY
    
    
    4  [KZ] Otabek ALTIN
    
    
    5  [CH] Christophe GIACOMETTI
    
    
    6  [TH] Phichit CHULANONT
    
    
    ---------------------------------   

 

"Yuuri, do you have any suggestions?" Victor crowds him against the barrier. "Something that would excite me?"

Yuuri opens his mouth but his throat catches on the words. Victor smirks and asks, "What did you think just now?"

"Oh. Um, well..."

Victor starts to wonder if Yuuri's actually going to tell him. But then he finds himself on the ground. Yuuri's silver medal falls--somewhere, it doesn't matter, because Yuuri's arms are tight around his shoulders and he's saying:

"Victor, please stay with me in competitive figure skating for one more year! This time, I'll win gold for sure!"

As soon as Victor realizes what Yuuri means, he says excitedly, "Great! But keep going!"

Yuuri pulls back to look at him. "What?"

If Victor could go back in time, he would stop there. Maybe he would hug Yuuri back even tighter than Yuuri had hugged him. Maybe he would kiss him. Maybe he would tell him he loved him. Maybe he would make him promise to keep competing forever if it means Victor will get to stay by his side.

And, as soon as he had the chance, Victor would sneak away and tell Yakov that he'd changed his mind. He'd threaten Yuri into secrecy. And Yuuri would never know that Victor had ever considered competing again.

And then, the next day, they would skate _Stammi Vicino_  together. And maybe Victor would kiss him on the ice in front of a crowd of thousands.

Instead, Victor is the idiot who says:

"Even I'm worried about making a full comeback if I'm also staying on as your coach."

 

 

JANUARY

... _And, in the world of figure skating, Russian skater Victor Nikiforov, five time winner of the Grand Prix Finals, has announced his return to the ice with the intention to compete in the upcoming World Championships. He will return to train under his former coach Yakov Feltsman in Saint Petersburg._

 _Japan's Yuuri Katsuki, who Nikiforov coached to his first silver medal at the Grand Prix Finals last month, will resume his own training with Allison Chang, the former coach of three time World Champion American Ryan Robertson. His home rink will be at the brand new state-of-the-art facilities outside Vancouver, Canada_...

 
    
    
    ---------------------------------   
    
    
    ALL-JAPAN   
    
    
    FIGURE SKATING CHAMPIONSHIPS   
    
    
    Jan 22-24  Osaka, Japan   
    
    
    ---------------------------------   
    
    
    MEN, FINAL RESULT   
    
    
    1  KATSUKI Yuuri 
    
    
    2  MINAMI Kenjiro  
    
    
    3  AMISAKI Tenshin 
    
    
    4  FUJIWARA Hikaru 
    
    
    5  OMIKI Yuuto 
    
    
    6  TAKEMOTO Kokan 
    
    
    ---------------------------------   

 
    
    
    ---------------------------------   
    
    
    RUSSIAN    
    
    
    FIGURE SKATING CHAMPIONSHIPS   
    
    
    Jan 29-31  Sochi, Russia   
    
    
    ---------------------------------   
    
    
    MEN, FINAL RESULT   
    
    
    1  PLISETSKY Yuri Nikolaevich 
    
    
    2  POPOVICH Georgi Dmitrievich 
    
    
    3  NIKIFOROV Victor Vasilievich 
    
    
    4  ZORIN Dobromir Petrovich 
    
    
    5  YESHEVSKY Valeri Anatolievich 
    
    
    6  KARTASHOV Grigori Masksimovich 
    
    
    ---------------------------------   

 

 

FEBRUARY
    
    
    ---------------------------------   
    
    
    FOUR CONTINENTS   
    
    
    FIGURE SKATING CHAMPIONSHIPS   
    
    
    Feb 11-14  Seoul, South Korea   
    
    
    ---------------------------------   
    
    
    MEN, FINAL RESULT   
    
    
    1  [JP] Yuuri KATSUKI
    
    
    2  [KZ] Otabek ALTIN
    
    
    3  [CA] Jean-Jacques LEROY
    
    
    4  [TH] Phichit CHULANONT
    
    
    5  [CN] Guang-Hong JI
    
    
    6  [US] Leo DE LA IGLESIA
    
    
    ---------------------------------   

 

 

MARCH
    
    
    ---------------------------------   
    
    
    EUROPEAN   
    
    
    FIGURE SKATING CHAMPIONSHIPS   
    
    
    Mar 3-6  Bratislava, Slovakia   
    
    
    ---------------------------------   
    
    
    MEN, FINAL RESULT   
    
    
    1  [RU] Victor NIKIFOROV
    
    
    2  [CH] Christophe GIACOMETTI
    
    
    3  [RU] Yuri PLISETSKY
    
    
    4  [CZ] Emil NEKOLA
    
    
    5  [IT] Michele CRISPINO
    
    
    6  [RU] Georgi POPOVICH
    
    
    ---------------------------------   

 

 

APRIL
    
    
    ---------------------------------   
    
    
    WORLD FIGURE SKATING   
    
    
    CHAMPIONSHIPS   
    
    
    Apr 7-10  Shanghai, China   
    
    
    ---------------------------------   
    
    
    MEN, FINAL RESULT   
    
    
    1  [JP] Yuuri KATSUKI
    
    
    2  [RU] Victor NIKIFOROV
    
    
    3  [CA] Jean-Jacques LEROY
    
    
    4  [KZ] Otabek ALTIN
    
    
    5  [CH] Christophe GIACOMETTI
    
    
    6  [RU] Yuri PLISETSKY
    
    
    ---------------------------------   

 
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
              ♥♥♥ YUURI!!! ♥♥♥
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
                _Never thought I would be_  <
    
    
                _so happy to get a silver_     
    
    
                                   _medal_     
    
    
      
    
    Sun, 4/10, 22:05
    
    
                          _Where are you?_  <
    
    
                  _Did you leave already?_  <
    
    
                                 (Delivered)
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
     Yuuri?|
    
    
    ----------------------------------------

...
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
    	Sun, 4/10, 22:05
    
    
                          _Where are you?_  <
    
    
                  _Did you leave already?_  <
    
    
                                  _Yuuri?_  <
    
    
    		    (Read 4/11, 09:38)
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
     When can I see|
    
    
    ----------------------------------------

...
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
                                  _Yuuri?_  <
    
    
      
    
    Mon, 4/11, 08:14
    
    
               _When can I see you again?_  <
    
    
    > _I'm sorry, Victor._
    
    
    > _I can't._
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
     Can't wh|
    
    
    ----------------------------------------

...
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
    > _I'm sorry, Victor._
    
    
    > _I can't._
    
    
                             _Can't what?_  <
    
    
    		    (Read 4/11, 09:26)
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
     You know I'm going to keep loving 
    
    
     you no matter what, right?|
    
    
    ----------------------------------------

 

 

MAY
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
              ♥♥♥ YUURI!!! ♥♥♥
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
                _so happy to get a silver_     
    
    
                                   _medal_     
    
    
      
    
    Sun, 4/10, 22:05
    
    
                          _Where are you?_  <
    
    
                  _Did you leave already?_  <
    
    
                                  _Yuuri?_  <
    
    
      
    
    Mon, 4/11, 08:14
    
    
               _When can I see you again?_  <
    
    
    > _I'm sorry, Victor._
    
    
    > _I can't._
    
    
                             _Can't what?_  <
    
    
    		    (Read 4/11, 09:26)
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
     Did you ever get katsudon after
    
    
     World's? I would have let you have it
    
    
     every night for a month. Your new coach
    
    
     probably didn't, |
    
    
    ----------------------------------------

...
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
    > _I'm sorry, Victor._
    
    
    > _I can't._
    
    
                             _Can't what?_  <
    
    
    		    (Read 4/11, 09:26)
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
     Yurio's taking it really hard. He's not
    
    
     good at losing. I guess none of us are.
    
    
     But I think he's even scaring Madam|
    
    
    ----------------------------------------

...
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
    > _I'm sorry, Victor._
    
    
    > _I can't._
    
    
                             _Can't what?_  <
    
    
    		    (Read 4/11, 09:26)
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
     What do|
    
    
    ----------------------------------------

...
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
    > _I'm sorry, Victor._
    
    
    > _I can't._
    
    
                             _Can't what?_  <
    
    
    		    (Read 4/11, 09:26)
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
     I wonder if you know you're the top 
    
    
     skater in the world. I wouldn't be 
    
    
     surprised if you're still saying you're
    
    
     just a dime a d|
    
    
    ----------------------------------------

...
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
    > _I'm sorry, Victor._
    
    
    > _I can't._
    
    
                             _Can't what?_  <
    
    
    		    (Read 4/11, 09:26)
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
     I still don't know what the right words
    
    
     a|
    
    
    ----------------------------------------

...
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
    > _I'm sorry, Victor._
    
    
    > _I can't._
    
    
                             _Can't what?_  <
    
    
    		    (Read 4/11, 09:26)
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
     Makkachin still misses you, t|
    
    
    ----------------------------------------

 

 

JUNE
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
              ♥♥♥ YUURI!!! ♥♥♥
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
                _so happy to get a silver_     
    
    
                                   _medal_     
    
    
      
    
    Sun, 4/10, 22:05
    
    
                          _Where are you?_  <
    
    
                  _Did you leave already?_  <
    
    
                                  _Yuuri?_  <
    
    
      
    
    Mon, 4/11, 08:14
    
    
               _When can I see you again?_  <
    
    
    > _I'm sorry, Victor._
    
    
    > _I can't._
    
    
                             _Can't what?_  <
    
    
    		    (Read 4/11, 09:26)
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
     Was it just that your idol didn't live 
    
    
     up to|
    
    
    ----------------------------------------

...
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
    > _I'm sorry, Victor._
    
    
    > _I can't._
    
    
                             _Can't what?_  <
    
    
    		    (Read 4/11, 09:26)
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
     Sometimes I wonder if it was just a 
    
    
     good luck charm after all. Did I say
    
    
     yes to a question you never meant to 
    
    
     ask?|
    
    
    ----------------------------------------

...
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
    > _I'm sorry, Victor._
    
    
    > _I can't._
    
    
                             _Can't what?_  <
    
    
    		    (Read 4/11, 09:26)
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
     I hear you have a real choreographer 
    
    
     this tim|
    
    
    ----------------------------------------

...
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
    > _I'm sorry, Victor._
    
    
    > _I can't._
    
    
                             _Can't what?_  <
    
    
    		    (Read 4/11, 09:26)
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
     Yurio caught me skating a 'demented' 
    
    
     version of stammi vicino last night. I 
    
    
     didn't tell him it was choreographed 
    
    
     for|
    
    
    ----------------------------------------

...
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
    > _I'm sorry, Victor._
    
    
    > _I can't._
    
    
                             _Can't what?_  <
    
    
    		    (Read 4/11, 09:26)
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
     I saw the photos from last night before
    
    
     C|
    
    
    ----------------------------------------

...
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
    > _I'm sorry, Victor._
    
    
    > _I can't._
    
    
                             _Can't what?_  <
    
    
    		    (Read 4/11, 09:26)
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
     Are you okay|
    
    
    ----------------------------------------

...
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
    > _I'm sorry, Victor._
    
    
    > _I can't._
    
    
                             _Can't what?_  <
    
    
    		    (Read 4/11, 09:26)
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
     I lo|
    
    
    ----------------------------------------

 

 

JULY
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
              ♥♥♥ YUURI!!! ♥♥♥
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
                _so happy to get a silver_     
    
    
                                   _medal_     
    
    
      
    
    Sun, 4/10, 22:05
    
    
                          _Where are you?_  <
    
    
                  _Did you leave already?_  <
    
    
                                  _Yuuri?_  <
    
    
      
    
    Mon, 4/11, 08:14
    
    
               _When can I see you again?_  <
    
    
    > _I'm sorry, Victor._
    
    
    > _I can't._
    
    
                             _Can't what?_  <
    
    
    		    (Read 4/11, 09:26)
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
     Yakov said since I watch your old 
    
    
     programs so much, I should be better at
    
    
     step sequences by n|
    
    
    ----------------------------------------

...
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
    > _I'm sorry, Victor._
    
    
    > _I can't._
    
    
                             _Can't what?_  <
    
    
    		    (Read 4/11, 09:26)
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
     Are|
    
    
    ----------------------------------------

...
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
    > _I'm sorry, Victor._
    
    
    > _I can't._
    
    
                             _Can't what?_  <
    
    
    		    (Read 4/11, 09:26)
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
     Do you ever think about w|
    
    
    ----------------------------------------

...
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
    > _I'm sorry, Victor._
    
    
    > _I can't._
    
    
                             _Can't what?_  <
    
    
    		    (Read 4/11, 09:26)
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
     Remember you told me that I was the 
    
    
     first person you'd slept with sober. I 
    
    
     worry abou|
    
    
    ----------------------------------------

...
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
    > _I'm sorry, Victor._
    
    
    > _I can't._
    
    
                             _Can't what?_  <
    
    
    		    (Read 4/11, 09:26)
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
     Someday I'm going to accidentally push 
    
    
     send. Is there any chance you wou|
    
    
    ----------------------------------------

...
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
    > _I'm sorry, Victor._
    
    
    > _I can't._
    
    
                             _Can't what?_  <
    
    
    		    (Read 4/11, 09:26)
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
     Yakov tried to give me sleeping pills 
    
    
     today but I|
    
    
    ----------------------------------------

...
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
    > _I'm sorry, Victor._
    
    
    > _I can't._
    
    
                             _Can't what?_  <
    
    
    		    (Read 4/11, 09:26)
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
     I know I was never a great coach but|
    
    
    ----------------------------------------

 

 

AUGUST
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
              ♥♥♥ YUURI!!! ♥♥♥
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
                _so happy to get a silver_     
    
    
                                   _medal_     
    
    
      
    
    Sun, 4/10, 22:05
    
    
                          _Where are you?_  <
    
    
                  _Did you leave already?_  <
    
    
                                  _Yuuri?_  <
    
    
      
    
    Mon, 4/11, 08:14
    
    
               _When can I see you again?_  <
    
    
    > _I'm sorry, Victor._
    
    
    > _I can't._
    
    
                             _Can't what?_  <
    
    
    		    (Read 4/11, 09:26)
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
     You're the one to beat this year. 
    
    
     Yakov's making|
    
    
    ----------------------------------------

...
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
    > _I'm sorry, Victor._
    
    
    > _I can't._
    
    
                             _Can't what?_  <
    
    
    		    (Read 4/11, 09:26)
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
     No one really knows why you're not here
    
    
     with us. They all think I seduced you 
    
    
     and then got b|
    
    
    ----------------------------------------

...
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
    > _I'm sorry, Victor._
    
    
    > _I can't._
    
    
                             _Can't what?_  <
    
    
    		    (Read 4/11, 09:26)
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
     You know that would never happen, 
    
    
     right? You know I would never get bored
    
    
     of you? That it would be impossible? 
    
    
     You do know that, righ|
    
    
    ----------------------------------------

...
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
    > _I'm sorry, Victor._
    
    
    > _I can't._
    
    
                             _Can't what?_  <
    
    
    		    (Read 4/11, 09:26)
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
     I've been working on|
    
    
    ----------------------------------------

...
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
    > _I'm sorry, Victor._
    
    
    > _I can't._
    
    
                             _Can't what?_  <
    
    
    		    (Read 4/11, 09:26)
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
     I don't think I'll ever know how to 
    
    
     love someone who isn't y|
    
    
    ----------------------------------------

...
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
    > _I'm sorry, Victor._
    
    
    > _I can't._
    
    
                             _Can't what?_  <
    
    
    		    (Read 4/11, 09:26)
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
     Sometimes I see the places you would 
    
    
     fit into. There's room for tatami mats 
    
    
     and a table in the|
    
    
    ----------------------------------------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited because somehow I totally messed up the GPF standings. Sorry to disappoint, but Chris did _not_ actually get first place in Barcelona.


	2. September

SEPTEMBER
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
              ♥♥♥ YUURI!!! ♥♥♥
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
                _so happy to get a silver_     
    
    
                                   _medal_     
    
    
      
    
    Sun, 4/10, 22:05
    
    
                          _Where are you?_  <
    
    
                  _Did you leave already?_  <
    
    
                                  _Yuuri?_  <
    
    
      
    
    Mon, 4/11, 08:14
    
    
               _When can I see you again?_  <
    
    
    > _I'm sorry, Victor._
    
    
    > _I can't._
    
    
                             _Can't what?_  <
    
    
    		    (Read 4/11, 09:26)
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
     I still text you every d| 
    
    
    ----------------------------------------

 

"What is the thing that's getting stabbed with a sword?"

The English words are the first thing Victor hears upon turning the corner into the rink. He suppresses a yawn and finishes zipping up his hoodie.

"Is it a snake?"

There's a man and two women in winter coats standing over by one of the Russian flags on the wall. It's not that unusual. Maybe someone's getting interviewed today. 

"It's a dragon," Victor calls over to them helpfully. They startle as a group and he shoots them a charming smile. "Either St. George and his horse are giants or they're killing a baby dragon. It's a subject of great debate over here."

"Mr. Nikiforov!" A lady with a laptop bag over her shoulder heads over to him. "It's such a pleasure to meet you. I'm--"

American accent, Victor decides. He steps forward to shake her hand but, instead, a thickset, balding man shoves him back into the hallway.

"One moment," Yakov tells them over his shoulder. "I need a few words with my skater."

"Of course," the woman says, just as Victor asks, "What are you doing?"

"Vitya," Yakov growls at him in Russian. "Take that thing off your finger."

Victor frowns down at his hands.

"You can't wear a wedding ring to a photo shoot of eligible bachelors." Yakov holds out his palm. Victor snatches his hand back protectively.

"It's not a wedding ring," Victor says. "It's an engagement ring."

"And you're not engaged to anyone, Vitya."

Victor takes a sharp breath and curls his hands into fists. Then exhales slowly.

"Yakov, what photo shoot?"

"Seriously, Vitya?" Yakov demands. "You agreed to this weeks ago. I called and reminded you last night."

"Did you? You know how forgetful I am."

"I sent you two texts this morning."

"You know how unreliable Megafon is."

"You wrote back." Yakov sighs the sigh of a man who's had this argument before. He holds out his hand again. "Come on, Vitya. You were engaged for, what--a day? And you've been wearing that thing for almost ten months."

"Can I keep it on if I call it a good luck charm?" Victor asks lightly.

Yakov shakes his head, but his expression softens. "Look. I know you're attached to that boy. But it's been long enough. Competition season is starting. You're going to be doing interviews and getting your picture taken from now until April. You can't keep that on."

Victor tilts his hand to watch the gold as it catches the shine of the fluorescent lights.

"Do you think Katsuki's still wearing his?"

Victor keeps his eyes on the ring. He knows for a fact that Yuuri isn't. He hadn't worn it at World's. He hadn't been wearing it this morning on Instagram.

"I'm not an eligible bachelor," Victor says finally. "I don't belong on some list in a magazine. And the qualifiers start in five weeks, in case you've forgotten. I can't take the time off practice to do this."

"You can take a few hours. Don't think I don't know you stayed here until midnight last night," Yakov tells him. "And, whatever you are, they think you're as much of eligible bachelor as you were the last three times you were in this magazine. We went over this last night. The exposure will help you with endorsements. You know you lost publicity when you were off the ice last season. You won't be in this game forever. You might as well make the money while you can."

Victor shakes his head, eyes still on the ring. It's been years since he worried about money. Well, that is a lie. He had thought about it when he'd first wondered if Yuuri would someday want a family with him.

But there are a lot more 'if's in that now than there were before. And, well, worst case (or maybe best case?), Victor can just accept the perpetual ad offers for cologne and vodka and men's underwear.

"Vitya, stop thinking whatever you're thinking," Yakov cuts through. "Just take it off."

Maybe he should. If he keeps the ring on through the skating season, the questions won't stop. Victor won't stop waiting for Yuuri, but maybe he should stop doing it so publicly.

He squeezes his eyes shut.

The gold slides off surprisingly easily.

 

 

It turns out that Victor's ratty v-neck and warm-up pants, both damp with sweat from his run here, are not suitable attire for the third most eligible athlete-bachelor in the world. Yakov hands the boy at the front desk a hundred ruble note and the key to Victor's apartment. And Victor hears him grumble about how he used to dress with some self-respect. Victor ignores him and turns to the Americans.

"I'm supposed to be an eligible bachelor, right?" He shoots them a dazzling smile. "Are you sure you don't want me to just do this without clothes?"

The reporter's eyes go wide and the makeup lady looks intrigued. But the photographer stammers, "Uh, that won't be necessary."

"Are you sure?" Victor winks at him. "I assure you, I'm in _very_ good shape."

"Just tell the boy where your Olympic suit is," Yakov cuts in, then turns to the team from the magazine. "Do you need any other outfits?"

"Something casual," the reporter says. "We'll get a photo outside in front of the river."

Victor nods and tells the boy, "Get the brown coat and blue scarf from the coat rack" -- the blue scarf always flatters his eyes on camera -- "and the jeans from the dresser. The dark ones."

He glances back at team. "My ass looks amazing in them. Just wait and see."

"Vitya," comes a warning growl. When Victor glances back, the shake of Yakov's head is saying 'trying too hard'.

The glass doors suddenly open, then slam shut. A dark cloud of sixteen year old stomps into the lobby.

"What?" Yuri snaps at the crowd of people who've turned to look at him. Baroque string music escapes his earbuds, in rather hilarious contrast to his... everything else.

"Yura, you're late," Yakov growls at him. "Go get your skates on."

"What's going on?" Yuri demands instead.

Victor grins at him. "I'm the third most eligible bachelor in the world of sports, Yura. Aren't you proud of me?"

Yuri's eyes widen for a moment, then he glares.

"I hope you're proud of yourself," he spits out. He calls Victor a series of creative obscenities in Russian as he stomps away to the locker room.

"The gold medal would be good, too," the reporter adds.

"Oh?" Victor asks. "Which one?"

"Just grab the Olympic one, kid," Yakov tells the boy at the front desk. "Now, what are you waiting for? We're in a hurry."

"Da, sir." The boy scrambles off his stool.

"Careful of the guard dog!" Victor calls after him. The boy turns around, wide-eyed, his hand on the door. Yakov just barks at him again to get going.

 

 

"We're doing interviews with the top five men," the reporter, whose name he's forgotten, tells him as they sit down in the locker room. The makeup lady is getting her supplies set up.

"Then it's my honor that you're here," Victor says charmingly. "Where would you like to start? My favorite color is gold." ...

 

... "There's too much sunshine out here," the photographer complains.

"Just wait a couple months and that won't be a problem," Victor tells him helpfully. ...

 

... "So, I'm sure our readers will want to know what your interests are. Any hobbies?"

"Makkachin," Victor says.

She raises her eyebrows.

"My poodle," he clarifies. "He likes old tennis balls. And walks. Oh, and steamed buns."

"So you like dogs?" she notes. "Anything else?"

Victor thinks for longer then he should have to, but comes up with, "I like food."

Even if nothing has tasted like anything in a long time now, Victor remembers that he _used_ to like food. He used to like all kinds of food.

The reporter smiles. "So, do you consider yourself a foodie, then?"

Chris had tried to explain that term to him once. "Not exactly. But I travel a lot for competitions and I like to try the local cuisine everywhere I go."

"That sounds like fun," she says. "What else do you like to do?"

"I like to walk Makkachin," Victor tells her.

"You did mention your dog already," she reminds him.

"Right."

Victor skates, eats, skates, walks Makkachin, and skates some more. He doesn't know what else he can say. Except--

"Vodka! Yes. I've been drinking a lot of vodka lately." ...

 

... The makeup lady keeps dabbing different colors of foundation under his eyes.

"I'd like to make you look like you've slept at least once in the last year," she tells him.

"Thank you?" Victor says. ...

 

... "Well, my last question is, what attracts you to a partner?"

'Big brown eyes and a shy smile' is the first thing that Victor can come up with. He wracks his brain for something better. 'Anxious and insecure with a stubborn confidence underneath.' No. That won't work. 'Strong thighs and a hot ass and--' No.

"Sharing common interests is important," Victor tells her, proud of himself. But then he finds himself continuing with, "Like skating. It's definitely a plus if he can give me a real challenge in a competition--"

"Sorry, Mr. Nikiforov, but this interview is for Sophisticate," the reporter interrupts.

"I know," Victor lies.

Though it's probably for the best that she stopped him there. He's already narrowed his potential prospects to two, and one of them is underage.

She sighs and says, "Sophisticate is a women's magazine."

"Oh." Victor frowns at her. He pauses. "Well, I have dated women."

"Then maybe you can tell us what you like to see in a _female_ partner," the reporter says desperately.

"Sure. Well, like I said, sharing common interests is important," Victor rallies.

What kind of woman would he like? The best he can come up with right now is one who'd have threesome with him and Yuuri. Yuuri did turn out to be delightfully adventurous in bed. Though Victor can't picture himself wanting to touch someone else. And he doesn't like the idea of having to see one more stranger with Yuuri. But maybe she could watch.

"She should like brown eyes," he says finally. That would be important. 'And adorable Japanese men with gorgeous bodies,' he is proud of himself for not adding.

"Your eyes are blue," the reporter reminds him.

"Yes," Victor agrees.

 

 

"That was a disaster." Victor throws himself onto his back on a bench and covers his face with his arms. " _I'm_ a disaster."

"They always edit the interviews," Yakov says dismissively. He doesn't take his eyes off the group of juniors sharing the ice.

"I used to be able to do this," Victor whines. "I used to be _good_ at this. I used to be able to do this kind of thing in my _sleep_."

"Maybe you should start sleeping again, then. Have you seen Yura anywhere?"

"They should have just let me take off my clothes," Victor complains.

"Where did that brat go?"

Victor squints his eyes up at his coach. "Do I look like his keeper? Whoever his keeper is has probably exiled themselves to Siberia by now."

He pulls out his phone and opens Instagram. He taps the #KatsukiYuuri tag and then the #YuuriKatsuki one. And then each one again with his name spelled with only one 'u'. And then #YuuriKatsudon just to be sure, because Yuri's oh-so-clever nickname has somehow spread onto SNS.

When it's clear that the photos have been taken down, Victor exhales and slides the phone back into the pocket of his coat. He wonders if Yuuri knows that Chris and Phichit are acting as his social media ninjas. Somehow they manage to eradicate every photo that's less than publicly appropriate before it goes viral.

Like the ones that showed up this morning from some club in Vancouver the weekend before. Like the one where Yuuri's dancing with another man. And the one where he's grinding his hips against another man's. And the three where he's sharing dirty, open-mouthed kisses with another man.

He wonders if Chris and Phichit know that Victor still sees every. single. one.

"I said you could take a few hours off of practice, not the whole day," Yakov interrupts his thoughts. "Go get your gear."

Victor sighs. "If I practice, will you give me my ring back?"

"Just go get your skates, Vitya."

Victor stops by the break room to grab a bottle of water. Yuri, it turns out, is hunched in the corner with his back to Victor.

"I need to do better," Yuri's saying aggressively at his phone, which is propped up on the table. "I need to surprise people."

"You know who you sound like right now, right?"

Victor feels his eyes widen. That voice is...

"Don't talk to me about that asshole," Yuri retorts. "And the only way I'm going to surprise people is by falling on my ass and getting last place in every qualifier. And, after World's, that's not even going to _be_ a surprise."

"Yurio--" the voice says.

"You were supposed to be here," Yuri's voice rises in anger. "You were supposed to be helping me and all you're doing is letting everyone down!"

"I know." --Victor's heart thuds. The voice is definitely...-- "But I'll do my best! I can still help you, Yurio. You're going to be great!"

"Is that--" Victor starts to ask.

Yuri jolts and almost tips over his chair.

"Get out of here!" he hisses at Victor, righting himself with a clatter.

"No, I--" Victor rushes to his table. Yuri reaches for his phone but Victor is faster.

And then Yuuri is _right there_. And how it is possible his brown eyes are even more beautiful than Victor remembers?

"Yuuri," he chokes out.

Yuuri's lips part. There's a pause before he says, in a small voice, "Victor?"

It's been half a year since the last time Victor heard his name said like that, with all the letters enunciated. Each syllable pronounced like it was important.

Victor's been waiting for this, imagining this, planning for this. He has so many words to say but now his chest is gripped in a vise so tight he can't get anything out.

Are Yuuri's eyes shiny? Does he look like he's about to cry? Why isn't he saying anything, either?

The screen is too small. He needs to see him in person. He needs--

Yuri rips the phone away from him and pushes 'end call' before Victor realizes what's happening.

"Don't do that again," he says darkly, before stomping away.

And then all that's left is the break room. The smell of stale food and unventilated air. And Victor's heart beating so fast he has to drop down into a chair so he can breathe.

...
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
    > _I'm sorry, Victor._
    
    
    > _I can't._
    
    
                             _Can't what?_  <
    
    
    		    (Read 4/11, 09:26)
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
     I need you so, so much|
    
    
    ----------------------------------------


	3. October, Part 1

OCTOBER
    
    
    ---------------------------------------
    
    
    GRAND PRIX SERIES ASSIGNMENTS
    
    
    ---------------------------------------
    
    
    SKATE AMERICA
    
    
    Oct 21-23   Chicago, United States
    
    
    CUP OF CHINA
    
    
    Oct 28-30   Beijing, China
    
    
    NHK TROPHY
    
    
    Nov 4-6 Osaka, Japan
    
    
    TROPHEE DE FRANCE
    
    
    Nov 11-13   Paris, France
    
    
    SKATE CANADA
    
    
    Nov 18-20   Toronto, Canada
    
    
    ROSTELECOM CUP
    
    
    Dec 2-4 Moscow, Russia
    
    
    GRAND PRIX FINAL
    
    
    Dec 15-18   Marseille, France
    
    
    ---------------------------------------
    
    
    [BE] André ALLAIRE
    
    
     Cup of China, Trophée de France
    
    
    [CA] Jean-Jacques LEROY
    
    
     NHK Trophy, Rostelecom Cup
    
    
    [CH] Christophe GIACOMETTI
    
    
     Trophée de France, Skate Canada
    
    
    [CN] Cao BIN
    
    
     Trophée de France, Rostelecom Cup
    
    
    [CN] Guang-Hong JI
    
    
     Skate America, Rostelecom Cup
    
    
    [CZ] Emil NEKOLA
    
    
     Cup of China, Skate Canada
    
    
    [ES] Sergio PARDO
    
    
     Skate America, Trophée de France
    
    
    [FR] Jean-Marc LAFFITTE
    
    
     Skate America, Cup of China
    
    
    [IT] Michele CRISPINO
    
    
     Cup of China, Rostelecom Cup
    
    
    [JP] Yuuri KATSUKI
    
    
     Cup of China, Skate Canada
    
    
    [JP] Kenjiro MINAMI
    
    
     Skate America, NHK Trophy
    
    
    [KR] Seung Gil LEE
    
    
     Skate America, Trophée de France
    
    
    [KZ] Otabek ALTIN
    
    
     Skate America, Rostelecom Cup
    
    
    [RU] Victor NIKIFOROV
    
    
     NHK Trophy, Skate Canada
    
    
    [RU] Yuri PLISETSKY
    
    
     NHK Trophy, Rostelecom Cup
    
    
    [RU] Georgi POPOVICH
    
    
     Cup of China, Trophée de France
    
    
    [TH] Phichit CHULANONT
    
    
     NHK Trophy, Skate Canada
    
    
    [US] Leo DE LA IGLESIA
    
    
     NHK Trophy, Skate Canada
    
    
    ---------------------------------------

 

 
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
              ♥♥♥ YUURI!!! ♥♥♥
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
                _so happy to get a silver_     
    
    
                                   _medal_     
    
    
      
    
    Sun, 4/10, 22:05
    
    
                          _Where are you?_  <
    
    
                  _Did you leave already?_  <
    
    
                                  _Yuuri?_  <
    
    
      
    
    Mon, 4/11, 08:14
    
    
               _When can I see you again?_  <
    
    
    > _I'm sorry, Victor._
    
    
    > _I can't._
    
    
                             _Can't what?_  <
    
    
    		    (Read 4/11, 09:26)
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
     If I get gold at the GPF and I retire 
    
    
     would you|
    
    
    ----------------------------------------

...
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
    > _I'm sorry, Victor._
    
    
    > _I can't._
    
    
                             _Can't what?_  <
    
    
    		    (Read 4/11, 09:26)
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
     I'd rather stand below you on the 
    
    
     podium again. I don't mind making  
    
    
     you work for|
    
    
    ----------------------------------------

 

 
    
    
    ---------------------------------   
    
    
    SKATE AMERICA   
    
    
    GRAND PRIX SERIES   
    
    
    Oct 21-23  Chicago, United States   
    
    
    ---------------------------------   
    
    
    MEN, FINAL RESULT   
    
    
    1  [CN] Guang-Hong JI
    
    
    2  [ES] Sergio PARDO
    
    
    3  [KZ] Otabek ALTIN
    
    
    4  [JP] Kenjirou MINAMI
    
    
    5  [FR] Jean-Marc LAFFITTE
    
    
    6  [KR] Seung Gil LEE
    
    
    ---------------------------------   

 

Victor barely closes the door behind himself when Makkachin leaps and knocks him back into it. He coughs out a winded laugh and gives her curly-haired head a pat.

Back in Hasetsu, Makkachin's enthusiasm had knocked Yuuri over more than once, as the photos on the 'v-nikiforov' Instagram can attest. Victor would attribute his own ability to remain upright to superior balance. But he suspects that Yuuri's problem was more likely that he kept seeing his small Vicchan in her.

Right up until he hit the ground.

At least she'd had the decency not to injure his skater before any competitions.

"Makka, do you want to see Yuuri again?" Victor asks.

She lolls her tongue in what is obviously a 'yes'. Victor doesn't bother taking off his coat or shoes. Just grabs his phone and drops back onto the couch.

"Well, come join me then." He gives the cushion a pat. She quickly jumps up and gives a little whine.

"Ah, you are enthusiastic. I can't blame you," Victor tells her. Victor move his feet up over the armrest so she can settle her head on his stomach. He opens Twitter and taps on his saved tweets.

"I know, I know. This isn't as good as if he were here, but at least it's a new one this time, Makka!"

Victor decided long ago that if he is going to succumb to insanity, at least he can bring his dog down with him.

He finds the tweet that had popped up under the #katsukiyuuri tag earlier today and opens the YouTube link. The title and description are all in Japanese. Victor doesn't know more than a few written words, but he knows the _victory-pure-courage-benefit_ kanji almost as well as he knows his own cyrillic name. He's practiced them enough times, like a schoolgirl with a crush.

Makkachin twists over and Victor takes the hint to give her chest a scratch while the video loads.

The Japanese announcer -- M-something? -- breaks the silence in the apartment and she scrambles back onto her belly, dog eyes on the small screen.

The announcer finishes his question and the camera pans over Yuuri. His eyes flick to the camera, making something akin to eye contact, and Victor's heart aches.

The last time he'd gotten to meet those big brown eyes was for the painfully brief seconds on Yuri's Facetime a month ago. Over a month ago. Of course, Victor has the pictures. Victor starves for them and he saves them all. Even the ones that make him want to _die_.

Like last ones from a week ago that show Yuuri knocking back at least two different drinks at a bar. By the second one (which Victor suspects was more than second), Yuuri's arm is wrapped around another man's shoulders, and the other man's hand is wrapped around his waist.

In the interview, Yuuri's voice is as gentle as Victor remembers it. Interrupted only by a brief bursts of impassioned resolution.

But there's still something different about Yuuri here. Maybe he's just older than in the interviews Victor and Makkachin binge-watch in the early hours of the morning.

He doesn't look older, though. Even if his features aren't as soft as Victor's used to. His hair is gelled, not back but in a way that keeps it from going completely astray on camera. His eyes aren't hidden by glasses. His gaze is steady, without the hesitant wavering from his old interviews.

It would be nice to believe that Yuuri has finally gained the confidence he deserves. But, if anything, his gaze is more flat than self-assured.

Victor lets his eyes trail down Yuuri's delicate neck to the collar of the suit Victor had bought him in Barcelona. The camera insists on filming only as low as his shoulders, so Victor has to fill in the lithe lines of his body from memory.

Makkachin paws at his thigh and Victor realizes he's played the interview on loop enough times for her to get bored. And Victor hasn't even been paying attention to the words.

"Last time, Makka," he promises her, even if it's probably a lie.

> M: _... Well, all right._ xxx _, Katsuki-senshu, aren't you the_ xxxxx xxxxxxxx _?_ xxx xx xxx xxxxx xxx xx xx xxxx _for your programs?_
> 
> Katsuki: xxxx xxxxxx _I won the medal, I_ xxxxx _have a lot_ xx xxxx xx xx. Many people xxxx xxxxxxxx _in me_ xxxx xxxxxx _they had no_ xxxxxx _to._ xx xxxxxx xxxxxxxxx xx xxxxx _this year, it means I will try to be_ xxxxxx _of their_ xxxxxx xx _me. The one_ xxx _I_ xxx xxxx _them this is with my skating. For them, I will try my best in the Grand Prix_ xxxxxx!
> 
> M: _You have brought_ xxxxx xxxx _to Japanese figure skating and we are_ xxxxxxx _to have you_ xxxxxxxxx _us again this year. Even if your home rink is elsewhere. You are in Canada now, is that right?_
> 
> Katsuki: <nodding>
> 
> M: _Tell us about your_ xxxxxxxx xx xxxxxx _coaches in the_ xxxxxx _of last_ xxxxxx.
> 
> Katsuki: _Victor Nikiforov was my coach last year. He was one of the people who_ xxxxxxxx _in me_ xxxx xxxxxx _he had no_ xxxxxx xx. He has been my xxxxxxxxxxx _starting when I was twelve years old and, ever since then, he's_ xxxxxxx _everything for me._ xxxx _and_ xxxx xxxxx _, he's never_ xxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxx _me. I am very_ xxxxxxxx _I got to_ xxxxxx _him from_ xxx xxxxx _,_ xxxx _for a_ xxxxx _time. I wish him good luck_ xxxx xxxxxx. I am xxxx _he_ xxxx xxx _this year but I will do my best!_
> 
> M: _Again, Katsuki-senshu, you_ xxx xxxxx _that you won the World Championships? The same_ xxxxxxxxxxx _where Mr Nikiforov_ xxxxxxxx _a silver medal._
> 
> Katsuki: _That was only because he coached me and_ xxxxxxxxxxxxx _my programs. I_ xxxxx xxx xxxx _won without him._
> 
> M: _Well,_ xx xxx xxxx _, your new coach is Allison Chang, who also coaches the American_ xxxxxx _skaters Leo de la Iglesia and Natalia Kovach._
> 
> Katsuki: _Yes. I am_ xxxxxxxx _that she was_ xxxxxxx _to_ xxxx xx xx _as one more_ xxxxxxx. She has also xxxxxx _me a lot_ xx xxx _and I am very_ xxxxxxxx _for her coaching in the Grand Prix this year._
> 
> M: _What do you say to the_ xxxxxx _that you_ xxx xxxxxxxx xx xxxxx _fourth quads in your_ xxxxxxx.
> 
> Katsuki: _Um_ ...

How Victor could have missed Yuuri saying his own name while looping through the interview earlier is beyond him. He quickly slides the bar back to that part again. He's able to make out a few more words. 

> M: _Tell us about your_ xxxxxxxx _to change coaches in the middle of last_ xxxxxx.
> 
> Katsuki: _Victor Nikiforov was my coach last year. He was one of the people who_ xxxxxxxx _in me even though he had no_ xxxxxx xx. He has been my xxxxxxxxxxx _starting when I was twelve years old and, ever since, he's changed everything for me._ xxxx _and_ xxxx _again, he's never stopped_ xxxxxxxxxx _me. I am very_ xxxxxxxx _I got to_ xxxxxx _him from_ xxx xxxxx _, even for a short time. I wish him good luck_ xxxx xxxxxx. I am xxxx _he_ xxxx xxx _this year but I will do my best!_
> 
> M: _Again, Katsuki-senshu, you_ xxx xxxxx _that you won the World Championships? The same_ xxxxxxxxxxx _where Mr Nikiforov_ xxxxxxxx _a silver medal._
> 
> M: _That was only because he coached me and_ xxxxxxxxxxxxx _my programs. I would not have won without him._

The habit of typing texts to Yuuri is so ingrained that Victor finds himself scrolling down to their conversation, which is still stuck back in April, and writing out, _What does_ 'xxxx' _mean?_

This might be the most pointless draft text he's written so far. He taps on the backspace key. But then, when it's half-erased, he pauses.

And has a dangerous thought:

Would it be so terrible to press send?

Yuuri probably won't reply. But he also doesn't reply to the messages Victor doesn't send. Victor has lived with that for half a year.

Or Yuuri could reply and tell him not to text him again. But that's what Victor's been doing anyways. Nothing would change and Victor would survive that, too.

Yuuri's not the first person who's left him. Victor knows how live without, even if he's never quite learned how to move on.

 

He waits for a reply.

There isn't one.

 

Eventually, he forces himself up. If nothing else, the familiar messaging screen now has a new line at the bottom. Makkachin jumps off the couch and follows him over to the front door.

Victor hangs his fall coat on the rack. He unties his shoes and sets them neatly in the closet. If Yuuri were here, would everything be this neat? Yuuri's desk in Hasetsu was perpetually cluttered, but the rest of his room had never been a mess. In hotels, though, he tended to kick off his shoes and let them land wherever they wished. If Victor was lucky, it would be somewhere out of the way.

If he was unlucky, he would trip over them and Yuuri would spend a solid 45 seconds apologizing. The effect would be broken by him touching Victor's bald spot -- Victor's _fictional_ bald spot -- but it was still adorable.

Victor's kitchen windows overlook dusk falling over the city. He opens the fridge door out of habit instead of hunger. It turns out to be lucky because there's nothing more than some old studen jelly and half a bowl of cold soup. One of the assistant coaches usually stops by and fills it with Yakov's approved foods, but apparently she hasn't been by.

Victor's never seen Yuuri cook. He'd think Hiroko-san would have let him if he was any good at it. But Victor still suspects that Yuuri would insist on having actual food in the apartment.

If he was here, Yuuri would be good for him.

Victor, if he had the chance, would try very hard to be good for Yuuri.

 

Still no reply.

He takes Makkachin out for a walk. They wander around the sleeping city until the bridges over the Neva River, one by one, split in half and raise up to the sky.

 

Victor wakes at four thirty in the morning. There's nothing unusual about that. He has as much trouble staying asleep as he does getting there.

But he doesn't wake just to his own dreariness this time, but to the ding of a message.

No one he knows in Russia wakes up this early. Switzerland is two hours behind. Thailand Victor isn't sure about, but it's certainly ahead of Moscow Standard Time.

A text from Phichit would be about Yuuri. A text to Victor wouldn't be anything good. Victor hesitates long enough in pressing his thumb to the sensor that it dings again, to Makkachin's groan of protest.

As Victor blinks against the phone screen in the darkness, he murmurs an apology to the old dog. Makkachin's already suffering enough from Victor's long late night walks.

Victor's eyes have barely adjusted to the glare when he reads the message--

> Yuuri: _believed_

Victor scrambles to sit up in bed. He's staring at his phone dumbstruck when another text comes in.

> Yuuri: _Sorry. My flight just landed._

Two messages. _Two_ _messages_. And, yes, right, it is the start of the Cup of China tomorrow. Yakov and Georgi had just flown out the day before.

Victor wants to write back ' _call me_ '. He wants to ask him to open a video chat so he can see his face. He wants to tell him, ' _I love you_ '. He wants to beg, ' _Please change your mind_ '. He wants to buy the next ticket to Beijing, no matter how many layovers or how many of legs of the flight are coach, and wrap himself around Yuuri's thin shoulders.

He wants to confess: ' _This message is the best thing that's happened to me in eleven months_ '.

But he doesn't know how not to break this fragile, fragile thing.

So he pulls up the video again.

> Katsuki: _Victor Nikiforov was my coach last year. He was one of the people who believed in me even though he had no_ xxxxxx xx. He has been my xxxxxxxxxxx _starting when I was twelve years old and, ever since, he's changed everything for me._ xxxx _and_ xxxx _again, he's never stopped_ xxxxxxxxxx _me. I am very_ xxxxxxxx _I got to_ xxxxxx _him from_ xxx xxxxx _, even for a short time. I wish him good luck_ xxxx xxxxxx. I am xxxx _he_ xxxx xxx _this year but I will do my best!_

He types and holds his breath: _What does_ 'xxxxxx' _mean?_

The reply comes right away this time:

> Yuuri: _reason_

He tries it again, pausing at each word he doesn't recognize typing it into poorly transliterated romaji.

> To Yuuri: 'xxxxxxxxxxx' _?_
> 
> Yuuri: _inspiration_
> 
> To Yuuri: 'xxxx'
> 
> Yuuri: _over_
> 
> To Yuuri: 'xxxxxxxxxx'
> 
> Yuuri: _surprising_

Victor replays the video again. Makkachin stirs with a small whine. He says to her, "Sorry, love. Go back to sleep."

> To Yuuri: 'xxxxxxxx'
> 
> Yuuri: _grateful_
> 
> To Yuuri: 'xxxxxx'

Victor runs a nervous hand through his sleep-messed hair.

> Yuuri: _borrow_
> 
> To Yuuri: 'xxxxx'
> 
> Yuuri: _world_
> 
> To Yuuri: 'xxxxxx'

Victor can't believe this is still happening. His heart is pounding over just a few translated words.

> Yuuri: _season_
> 
> To Yuuri: 'xxxx'
> 
> Yuuri: _sure_
> 
> To Yuuri: 'xxxx' 'xxx'
> 
> Yuuri: _will win_

Victor runs through the video again and when he gets past the part about him, he rubs the sting out of his eyes. He laughs a laugh that isn't amused, exactly. Isn't happy, exactly. It's the kind of laugh you laugh so you don't have to cry.

He types: ' _You don't have to borrow something you already have_ '.

He holds down the backspace key.

He types: ' _The world was never what I belonged to_ '.

He holds down the backspace again.

As he starts typing again, another message comes through:

> Yuuri:  _In that interview, I also said my theme was Potential._

So he knew what Victor was having him translate. Of course he knew.

Victor doesn't know the right thing to say to that. He says nothing instead.

When he falls asleep, he sleeps all the way into the afternoon. Sleeps through Makkachin's dog walker coming and going. Sleeps through the texts from Yakov, because apparently the junior coaches told on him for not showing today. Doesn't wake to any more messages from Yuuri, but this morning's were so much more than he had hoped for.

 

 
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
              ♥♥♥ YUURI!!! ♥♥♥
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
    > _grateful_
    
    
                                    xxxxxx _ <_
    
    
    > _borrow_
    
    
                                     xxxxx _ <_
    
    
    > _world_
    
    
                                    xxxxxx _ <_
    
    
    > _season_
    
    
                                      xxxx _ <_
    
    
    > _sure_
    
    
                                  xxxx xxx _ <_
    
    
    > _will win_
    
    
    > _In that interview_
    
    
      _I also said my_
    
    
      _theme is Potential._
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
     |
    
    
    ----------------------------------------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Victor wasn't actually supposed to send that text. One of my favorite things about writing is when the characters surprise you.


	4. October, Part 2

OCTOBER, cont'd

Victor's been a skater in the Capital Indoor Stadium five -- or has it been six? -- times. He's been a coach there once.

He knows where the booth is to get his entrance pass. He knows where the private doors are. He knows the holding area for the skaters. The warm-up mats. The hallway.

He can still smell the oil and exhaust from the parking garage.

He can see where he knocked Yuuri down in front of 17,345 people.

It's nothing but resurfaced ice now. But what was he expecting? A memorial?

 

 

Silence. And then:

"That was brutal," Mila says over the cheering from the TV.

"What an asshole," Yuri adds appreciatively. He takes a sip from his juice box.

> Chris: _Was that a 'fuck you'_
> 
> Chris: _or a come hither?_

"Do you think they're doing altitude training in Vancouver?" Mila asks. "Maybe we should do that."

> Chris: _Either way, the kid's on fire._

At the rink exit, Yuuri's coach holds out a pair of blade protectors and a JSF jacket.

> _... his fans back in Japan should be happy at the choice of a J-pop song ..._

"Why isn't anyone hugging him?" Victor asks. For two minutes and thirty seconds, he had to watch Yuuri punish himself on the ice and no one is even trying to comfort him.

Two pairs of eyes land on Victor.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Yuri demands.

"Oh, hey, I thought you weren't allowed to wear that," Mila says.

Victor glances down at where he's rubbing the ring on his finger.

> _Despite its low base score and only one quad, it's very taxing choreography. The music doesn't let up for a second. And, indeed, after seeing it, I think you'd agree that few skaters--_
> 
> _Maybe none._
> 
> _\--Maybe none could match the unrelenting intensity of this program._

"Yakov's not here," he points out and turns back up to the television. Yuuri's coach is smiling as she sits down next to him at the kiss and cry. Yuuri nods at whatever she's saying, but doesn't look at her.

Yakov isn't here. He's there. With Yuuri.

"Do you think Yakov would give him a hug?"

He's done it before.

Sort of.

Victor taps on Yakov's name on his phone and starts typing.

Yuri exclaims from next to him, "Are you seriously texting Yakov right now? You know, not everyone needs their coach hanging all over them like some slobbering dog. Katsudon's not a child."

> _... It's not unusual for skaters to start their program with a lower base score early on and increase the difficulty as the season progresses. I don't know that I would call that easy, however._
> 
> _You know, I don't think I even saw him breathe until his final pose. ..._

"He's not okay, why doesn't anyone _see_ that?" Victor pushes send. Yuuri always comes down hard when he gets off the ice. And the more intense the performance, the worse it is.

"He looks fine," Mila says with a shrug. "And what does he have to be upset about? If anyone needs a hug, it's Georgi. He has to skate after that."

"Yakov's not replying."

Yuuri looks small and cold and vulnerable on the kiss and cry bench. He's staring out with the same flat expression he had in the Japanese interview. He's going to be alone when he crashes.

Victor runs his hand through his hair in frustration. Then picks up his phone and opens Yuuri's thread this time.

> _... It makes one wonder what sort of message he's sending with that program. Is he rubbing in that he doesn't need a high score to beat his current competitors? Is it a message to the ISU that quads are over-emphasized and ..._

He watches Yuuri pull his own phone out of the pocket of his jacket. His coach is still talking but he's obviously not paying any attention to her. Yuuri's brows draw in as he looks at the screen.

"You just fucking texted him yourself, didn't you?" Yuri demands. "Do you ever know when to stop?"

"Probably not," he says.

Victor thinks about Yuuri spending the last two and a half minutes needlessly punishing himself on the ice. Maybe Victor shouldn't be worried that Yuuri's _going_ to crash. Maybe he should be worried that Yuuri crashed a long time ago and just hasn't gotten back up.

But then a small, barely there smile slips over Yuuri's face. He glances up at the cameras for a brief second and then back at his phone.

Victor feels an answering smile tug at his own lips.

> _... I, for one, think it's meant as a challenge to his future competitors. He doesn't have any real competition in this qualifier. But, remember, he'll be going up against Nikiforov and Giacometti in Toronto next month. He's showing off his stamina and how much room he has to go up on his base score. ..._

"What did you say?" Mila asks.

"I just told him he did well," Victor says.

Victor's phone dings and he glances down. And then frowns in confusion. He types -- and then deletes it. And then types something else and pushes send.

He gets another message back and lets out a long exhale.

> _94.78. Yuuri Katsuki is now in first place._

 

 

> To Chris: _I should have been there._
> 
> Chris: _A little late to change your mind on that one, don't you think?_

Victor frowns at his phone.

 

 
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
              ♥♥♥ YUURI!!! ♥♥♥
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
                                  xxxx xxx _ <_
    
    
    > _will win_
    
    
    > _In that interview_
    
    
      _I also said my_
    
    
      _theme is Potential._
    
    
      
    
    Fri, 10/28, 13:36
    
    
                   _You almost underrotated_  <
    
    
                     _that last triple. You_     
    
    
                   _ended on the wrong edge_     
    
    
                 _after that step sequence,_     
    
    
                 _you should have ended it_     
    
    
                       _with a double loop_     
    
    
                      _instead of the axel._     
    
    
    		   (Read 10/28, 13:37)
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
     |
    
    
    ----------------------------------------

...
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
                     _that last triple. You_     
    
    
                   _ended on the wrong edge_     
    
    
                 _after that step sequence,_     
    
    
                 _you should have ended it_     
    
    
                       _with a double loop_     
    
    
                      _instead of the axel._     
    
    
    > _You watched it?_
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
     I would never take my eyes off y|
    
    
    ----------------------------------------

...
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
                       _with a double loop_     
    
    
                      _instead of the axel._     
    
    
    > _You watched it?_
    
    
                   _Get your base score up._  <
    
    
                   _I want some competition_  <
    
    
                       _this year, Katsuki._ 
    
    
    		     (Read 10/28, 13:39)
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
     |
    
    
    ----------------------------------------

...
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
                       _with a double loop_     
    
    
                      _instead of the axel._     
    
    
    > _You watched it?_
    
    
                   _Get your base score up._  <
    
    
                   _I want some competition_  <
    
    
                       _this year, Katsuki._  <
    
    
    > _You'll get it, Nikiforov._
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
     |
    
    
    ----------------------------------------

 

 

"Getting tall," Victor tells Yuri as he steps into the rink after Georgi's program.

"Fuck you," Yuri tells him.

Victor doesn't know what's wrong with himself. Yuri's grown 11 centimeters this year. He struggles with his biellman. He hasn't landed a quad salchow in two and a half months.

"I could help you with your quads," Victor offers with a peace-making smile. 

Yuri stuffs in his earbuds and gives Victor his middle finger.

 

 

For four minutes and thirty seconds, Victor watches serpentine steps turn into spread eagles turn into flying spins turn into an Ina Bauer and camel spins and a biellman turn into quads comboed with triples. The song goes on and every jump lands precisely on the beats, but the music comes from the loudspeakers, not from Yuuri.

It's a program meant to be skated for a lover, Victor thinks. Yuuri skates it for no one, not even for himself.

When he gets to the kiss and cry all bundled up in his black jacket, Victor types: _Your landing on the quad flip was shaky. You could use more height on your triple axel. You traveled on the camel spin._

The camera captures the small smile that ghosts on Yuuri's lips.

 

 
    
    
    ---------------------------------   
    
    
    CUP OF CHINA   
    
    
    GRAND PRIX SERIES   
    
    
    Oct 28-30  Beijing, China   
    
    
    ---------------------------------   
    
    
    MEN, FINAL RESULT   
    
    
    1  [JP] Yuuri KATSUKI
    
    
    2  [IT] Michele CRISPINO
    
    
    3  [CZ] Emil NEKOLA
    
    
    4  [BE] André ALLAIRE
    
    
    5  [RU] Georgi POPOVICH
    
    
    6  [FR] Jean-Marc LAFFITTE
    
    
    ---------------------------------   


	5. November, Part 1

NOVEMBER

Victor waits at the baggage claim at Kansai International and he types, _At the Osaka airport. It feels wrong to be in Japan without you--_

Suddenly a message appears on the same screen he's typing. Victor fumbles the phone and has to pick it up from the floor.

His heart is pounding. He turns it back on. He stares at the message as he holds down the delete button.

> Yuuri: _I know I shouldn't ask you for any favors but_

That seems to be the end of it. Victor starts to type, _You can ask me anything_. But then another message appears and he holds down delete again.

> Yuuri: _Minako's coming to help Yurio. I don't want him to get in trouble with Yakov for going behind Madame Barovskaya's back._

Victor doesn't know how he can help that, but he starts typing, _What can I--_

> Yuuri: _He's supposed to meet her at 1800. Would you mind maybe distracting Yakov for a couple hours?_

"Oy! Old man, that's your suitcase, let's go!"

 

Victor tries to help. He does. He goes to Yakov's room at three minutes to six and says, "That jump after the step sequence in my short program. I'm thinking of making it a triple instead of a triple-double combo."

"I've been telling you to do that all along," Yakov says.

"But!" Victor sticks his arm in the way to stop him from shutting his door. "I think we should talk about it some more. Should it be a salchow or a lutz? I'm thinking a lutz--"

"I told you to make it a salchow," Yakov says. "Now, if this conversation is over--"

"What about a triple axel, though?"

"You already have a triple axel."

"I could switch it around," Victor says.

"Look, Vitya, your attempt to help Yura is commendable, I suppose. But I would very much prefer you to let me pass the evening in relative peace."

"You knew?" The one thing Yuuri asks of him and he's already messed it up.

Yakov sighs. "Just tell that ballet teacher to take him for the afternoon tomorrow, too, and to work on his arabesque."

 

 

Victor knocks back the sake. Luckily, there's no one Japanese in the bar near to the hotel to judge him. Well, except the bartender. The bartender is, very likely, Japanese.

"Another?" she asks with a Japanese accent and a raised eyebrow.

Yes, she is definitely judging him for shooting back a three thousand yen glass of sake without even tasting it. So Victor says, "Yes. But something more expensive this time."

Victor has just collected his new drink and is about to down it as well when he hears: "Victor!"

He slips on a charming grin as he turns around and sees--

Phichit Chulanont and Leo de la Iglesia.

Fantastic.

He doesn't let his smile drop as he makes his way over to their booth, though.

"Hello! What a coincidence meeting you two here!" Victor says brightly to Yuuri's best friend and Yuuri's rinkmate.

"Hello, Victor." Leo stares at him warily.

"Join us!" Phichit exclaims and scoots over in his booth. They're sitting across from each other, each of them holding a bottle of beer in one hand and their phone in the other.

Victor sits down. He'll have one polite drink. He won't ask about Yuuri. And he'll preserve some pride. Then he'll be a responsible athlete and retire early to his hotel room. And then drink the dozen bottles of Happoshu he'll buy at that vending machine he saw on the walk here.

Leo's phone dings and he glances down, brown hair falling over his shoulders. "Oh, Phichit, Yuuri finally got back to me. He says that--"

But then he cuts himself off and looks up at Victor through narrowed eyes.

"Oh, right!" Victor says, shooting him a wide and fake smile. "I forgot. You're Yuuri Katsuki's rinkmate, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I am," Leo says, confused brows coming together. "Roommate, too."

"Of course." And then Victor says with a fake laugh, "It must be awkward, having Yuuri's ex-roommate and current roommate here at the same table."

Leo's still frowning. Phichit laughs and it doesn't even sound fake. Victor is not at all jealous of that.

"Victor, pose with me!" he says, and holds out his phone. He throws an arm around Victor's shoulder. And then he says, once he takes three selfies, just in case, "Did you know I visited Vancouver last summer? It was my first time there since Junior Skate Canada. Leo and Yuuri showed me their amazing new training rink, I was so jealous. You know they have--"

"Victor Nikiforov!" Victor hears a woman's accented call from his other side.

His smiling muscles are getting tired, but he readies a charming smile anyways for whichever fan has found him. Only to find himself looking straight at Minako.

He stares.

"Minako-sensei!" Phichit exclaims.

"Phichit-kun," Minako says. She drops a bottle of Japanese whiskey on the table.

"This is Leo," Victor introduces him helpfully. "He's Yuuri's rinkmate and roommate."

Leo offers her the kind of easy smile he definitely did not offer Victor.

"You look like you need another drink," Minako says to Victor.

He glances down at his glass of sake. He picks it up, downs it in one gulp, and says, "Many more."

...

"Is Yuuri okay?" Victor asks Minako. Because his pride is always the first thing to go.

"How would I know?" She takes a drink. "Last week was the first time he's texted me since the Grand Prix Final and it was to ask me to help Yurio with a tour jete."

...

"Vancouver must be fun," Victor says lightly. "You and Yuuri must go out all the time."

"Yeah, sometimes," Leo says and takes a sip of his beer.

"Isn't he fun when he drinks?" Victor asks, shooting him a sharp grin.

"Uh, not really." Leo frowns. "He mostly just--"

"It's fortunate he has a friend looking out for him," Victor interrupts. "Making sure he doesn't do anything _out of character_."

He ignores Phichit's worried look.

...

"He looks too thin," Victor complains to Leo. "Did your coach make him lose weight? Why would she do that?"

"Don't all our coaches give us meal plans?" Leo asks, glancing around the table.

"Not that Yuuri has ever been very good at following one," Minako cuts in.

"I know," Victor agrees nostalgically. "He gets this little roll on the bottom of his belly when he sneaks extra food."

"Oh my gosh!" Phichit exclaims. "I know that little roll. It's so cute!"

...

"Is Yuuri's hair longer?" Victor demands of Leo. "It looked longer in Beijing. What kind of shampoo does he use?"

...

"Why aren't you mad at me?" Victor accuses Phichit and Minako. "Everyone else is mad at me."

"Did you do something we should be mad at your for?" Minako raises her eyebrows.

"Yuuri's mad at me," Victor whines.

"No, he's not," Phichit says.

"Then why isn't he here," he asks mournfully. "He said it was all for my own good, but do I look good to you?"

"No, you, uh, really don't," Leo says.

"No shit," Minako agrees.

"Tell Yuuri," Victor begs them. "Tell him I'm a mess without him."

Phichit starts to open his mouth but Victor interrupts.

"No, don't tell him that. Tell him I'm fine."

"All right," Minako says doubtfully.

"No, don't say I'm fine, then he'll think I'm fine. Tell him--"

...

"Why don't you know what kind of shampoo he uses? Aren't you his roommate?"

...

"Where did you come from?" Victor demands.

"I've been here the whole time, asshole," Yuri says. He's squeezed in the booth between Minako and Leo, typing on his phone as he talks.

"He was in the corner texting all night," Minako says.

"Ooh, were you texting Otabek?" Phichit asks.

"No," Yuri snaps.

"That sounds like a 'yes'," Victor sing-songs.

"Shut up, old man."

"Have you been drinking?" Victor asks him. He eyes his glass of clear liquid and ice. "Is that vodka?"

"It's water," Yuri snaps.

"You're a disgrace to Russia, Yuri," Victor complains. "I drank all the time when I was your age."

...

"Please tell me he's okay," Victor begs Leo.

"I'm sure he's fine," Leo says.

...

"How am I supposed to meet Yuuri where he is when he's seven thousand nine hundred and six miles away?" Victor whines at the world.

Phichit asks, sounding impressed, "Did you actually look that up?"

...

"No, I mean, why aren't you mad at me? Chris thinks I broke Yuuri's heart and Chris was _my_ friend first," Victor tells them. Then pauses. "I've never pole danced with him, though. But we have done other things that didn't include most of our clothes--"

"Okay, okay," Phichit interrupts. "Chris thinks you're the one who left Yuuri?"

"Everyone thinks that." Victor picks up his glass. "This is empty."

"What, are you going around telling people it's Yuuri's fault, now?" Yuri slams his phone down on the table. "That's low even for you."

"Yuri," Phichit starts.

"You're supposed to be Yuuri's friend. Don't make excuses for that asshole," Yuri snaps at Phichit, then turns back to Victor. "Obviously Katsudon's brain-damaged enough to worship the ground you walk on. He could be with us in St Petersburg right now if you hadn't dumped him!"

Minako snorts. "Is that what Yuuri said?"

"He said it was his fault."

A moment passes.

"But that's exactly what he'd say if it was Victor's fault." Yuri throws up his arms in exasperation. He doesn't appear to notice Leo's 'ouch' when he hits him in the face.

"Fair enough," Minako says.

Phichit actually shoots Victor a sympathetic look.

"But you obviously don't know Yuuri or Victor as well as you think," Minako continues. She's swaying a little. Or maybe that's Victor.

"What?" Yuri snaps.

"If you knew either of them at all you'd know that Yuuri broke his own fucking heart."

Victor stares down at his empty glass and wishes it was full.

...

"He's not okay, is he?" Victor turns to Phichit.

"I'm sure he will be," Phichit says, patting his hand unconvincingly.

...

"At least make sure he's using enough lip balm," Victor instructs Leo.

...

"I text him every day," Victor tells his still-empty glass. "Up to seven times."

"You do?" Leo asks.

Phichit frowns at him. "He didn't say anything about that."

"Well, he doesn't _know_."

"Um," Phichit says.

"But, see?" Victor unlocks his phone and hands it to Phichit so he can see the draft he was composing earlier. He watches over Phichit's shoulder as he opens the messaging app. Yuuri's contact is up already. At least Victor thinks it is. It's a little blurry.

"'I would do anything to hear'," Phichit reads off the text. "Hear what, Victor?"

"Hear his voice again," Victor tells him. He watches Phichit dutifully type in the rest of the message. "You can't send it, though. You have to push delete now."

"Right," Phichit says. "Because then he would know you actually wanted to hear from him."

"So you text him every day and never actually send them?" Minako frowns at him.

"I don't understand," Leo says.

"Oops," Phichit says, right as Victor hears a whoosh from his phone. "My finger slipped."

...

"No one named 'Yuri' likes me," Victor complains to his empty drink.

...

Phichit's shoulder isn't as comfortable a pillow as Yuuri's.

"No offense," Victor tells him worriedly.

"None taken," Phichit says. "No one is as comfortable to cuddle with as Yuuri."

Victor vehemently agrees.

...

Phichit makes him put his pants back on.

...

"Yuuri used to make me put my pants back on, too," Victor reminisces.

 

 

Victor squints his eyes open. Then shuts them.

His phone dings again.

Ugh.

He gropes for it and finds it under his pillow.

There's a message from Yakov that he's late to his scheduled practice block. He stuffs it back under his pillow.

The buttons of his shirt are itchy across his chest. He thought he took it off. He distinctly remembers taking it off. He tries to do it again now but it requires too much moving around.

He opens his phone again and finds Yuuri's messages. He starts to type that he wishes he were here to take his shirt off for him. But then he sees a new message on the sent side of the screen.

Damn it, Phichit.

There's a read marker from hours and hours ago. It's been a whole day in Vancouver while the night passed in Japan and there's no reply.

Victor starts typing an apology. Or an excuse. He's not entirely sure what he's doing and he gives up halfway through. He's scared Yuuri away just when he was finally getting some contact with him again.

Victor's too miserable to try to fix this right now, so abandons his phone in favor of going back to sleep.

 

 

"Now, everyone's looking forward to seeing your new programs this year," the reporter tells him. "Can you tell us a little about your theme?"

"Sure," Victor says with a charming smile. "I don't have a theme this year."

"Really?" She looks taken aback. Also, she's wearing too much mascara, Victor notes distantly. It's starting to clump. "No theme? That's unusual for you."

"Everyone knows I like to surprise people," Victor says amiably. "Well, surprise. No theme this year--"

Yakov interrupts him, practically shoving him to the side.

"Victor is joking," Yakov tells her. "His theme is coming home. Because he's back in Russia where he belongs. Now, excuse us, I need to borrow my skater for a few minutes before his short program."

"Yes, of course." The reporter smiles at him. "Thank you for your time and best of luck today, Mr Nikiforov. Though I doubt you will need it."

"I doubt that, too," Victor says with a wink as Yakov manhandles him away.

"Are you intentionally sabotaging your career now?" Yakov growls.

"You know," Victor muses. "I seem to remember you've asked me that before."

"Yes, almost every year. I am painfully aware of that fact." The vein at his temple is pulsing.

"My theme can't be coming home," Victor tells him.

"Yes, it is. Remember? We talked about this months ago. It was your idea."

"My home is sixteen hours behind me," Victor says seriously. "My home is still in yesterday."

Yakov sighs and rubs his eyes. "Don't you have some photos of yourself to autograph?"

Victor glances behind him at the crowd of excited teenagers.

"Yes," Victor says, straightening up. He slides his sunglasses back on. "Yes, I do."

 

"You are a fan?" Victor asks in Japanese.

"Yes, yes, a big fan!" she says excitedly as she hands him a glossy print of himself in last year's World's costume.

He's scrawling sloppy kanji over his own face when he hears, "Victor! I didn't know you spoke Japanese."

Victor turns to tell Celestino, "I did coach a Japanese skater last year."

"But Yuuri speaks excellent English. His accent needed some work at first, but he's almost perfect now," Celestino says. He claps Victor on the back. Victor hadn't noticed but they're walking to the entrance to Namihaya Dome already. His hand has started to cramp from the autographs so he doesn't protest. Even if the last (and most) thing he wants is to talk about Yuuri.

"So, how does it feel to be competing again?" Celestino's asking.

A familiar red-and-blonde figure passes by them. To avoid answering the question, Victor calls out, "Minami!"

The kid stops in place. His eyes widen in horror when he sees Victor.

"Good luck today!" Victor calls out.

Victor hopes the kid doesn't injure himself in his hasty backward stumble away from him. His base score's low enough he'll be in last place, no matter what, but it would be poor form to break a competitor's ankle.

When he turns back around, it's to a jovial Italian-accented "Hello, Allison! Been a long time."

Allison Chang. He's never met her before, though he's seen her at his competitions for years. He didn't know her name until last year's Japanese Nationals when Yuuri showed up with her as his new coach.

"It's good to see you again, Victor," she tells him. Okay, apparently they have met before.

"A gathering of all of Yuuri Katsuki's coaches," Celestino observes. "A good kid, that one."

"A good kid," Victor repeats, feeling the bitter taste of it on his tongue. His fiance is a 'good kid'.

The most recent of Yuuri's coaches just nods. Victor glares at her but she doesn't seem to notice. She's short and she has beady eyes and she's a dancer, according to Wikipedia, not even an ice skater, and Victor has spent the last nine months hating her.

Celestino's saying something else, Victor isn't sure what, when he interrupts, "Why did you give him that brutal short program? Are you trying to burn him out for the season?"

"You really think I would give him a program like that?" she demands, pulling her winter coat closer around herself. "This isn't my first time around, you know."

"Someone did."

"I'm not in the habit of abusing my skaters," she snaps. And then sighs. She pulls her winter coat tighter around herself and says, "I'm sorry. He _is_ a good kid, really. But the program wasn't what we choreographed. What he skated didn't even make sense. He pushed up the difficulty and somehow managed to lower his base score at the same time."

She shakes her head. "But I guess I don't have to tell you two how challenging he is to coach. I should probably be asking for advice."

"What are you talking about?" Victor asks.

Celestino looks similarly bewildered. "Yuuri's one of the easiest skaters I've ever had. Sure, he has some problems with anxiety, but he even seems to be getting better with that."

"Oh, no, I don't mean to speak badly of him. He's the most talented skater I've ever coached, and that's saying a lot," Allison says quickly. "I just worry about him."

Victor's stomach sinks. But he can't not ask, "How?"

"I'm sure you know." She gestures at both of them with gloved hands. "It's as if he tries to sabotage himself. It's not just the program in Beijing. Last summer, he skated for over a week on a sprained ankle before I figured out why he kept flubbing his jumps. He binge eats and we have to keep cutting back his diet. And I've had to learn to tell when he shows up to his rink time hung over and dehydrated, because they're the days he pushes himself so hard it's dangerous. But then, at the end of the day, he's still so kind and so polite. But it's a miracle nothing's shown up on the internet. How did you two manage it?"

Victor can see Celestino giving him a confused look, but Victor, unfortunately, is not confused. His heart is just falling, falling.

He hears himself mutter some excuse to walk away.

Yuuri's coach's "oh, no, is all new? I shouldn't have said anything" and Celestino's weak "pressure of winning World's" trail after him.

 

Four skaters later, Victor goes through the half-hearted motions of his short program.

Quad salchow. Underrotated.

Yuuri isn't okay.

Triple axel. Touch-down on the landing.

Yuuri isn't okay.

Step sequence. Downgraded.

Yuuri isn't okay at all.

 

It's not a proud day for Russia. Victor makes it to fourth place by the skin of his teeth. Yuri's figures are smoother than they've been since Nationals, but he still barely scores above Victor.

 

That night, Victor lies on the hotel bed and stares at the ceiling for six and a half hours.

The next morning, he looks for plane tickets.

He's not able to switch his flight back to St Petersburg, but it costs only a minor fortune to fly coach across the Pacific. Seven thousand nine hundred and six miles. He's entered his credit card confirmation code and is about to push the buy button when a call pops up. In frustration, he automatically hangs up.

Then, as he's about to click buy again, it hits him that Yakov's name in his phone isn't surrounded by emoji hearts.

He opens his missed calls and his chest tightens. There's no voicemail and he knows there isn't going to be one. He pushes the call button and, heart thudding, waits as it rings.

 

 

"Victor?" a tentative voice says.

"Yuuri," Victor breathes out on a sigh. "You called me."

"I'm sorry," Yuuri says, his voice quiet. "I got your text and I--I meant to call, but then I--"

He trails off, so Victor just says, "Thank you."

"Oh." He can practically hear Yuuri biting his lip. "Did you really just want to hear my voice? Why?"

_Because I haven't heard you talk to me in so long. Because I miss you so much it feels like I'm dying. Because if you're talking to me, it means you're not doing any of those stupid, stupid things your coach says you've been doing._

"Keep talking," Victor says instead. "I need to keep hearing you."

There's a pause and then, "Um. What do you want me to say?"

"Anything," Victor says. "Anything. What did you eat for breakfast? What are you wearing?"

"What?" Yuuri squeaks.

Victor hears his last question over again in his head. "No. Yuuri, no, I didn't mean it like that. Never mind."

He hears a huff of air and imagines it's a laugh. And then Yuuri says, "Nonfat yogurt and an apple. And, um, my track pants and a blue shirt. I just got home from the rink."

Right. It's almost evening there. Yesterday evening. He can picture him, hair still wet from the locker room shower, smelling of cheap shampoo and still like the most amazing thing in the world. Stray strands curling at the ends. Lips chapped from the cold air. Cheeks still tinged in red.

"Victor? Are you there?"

"Yes," Victor says quickly. "I was just picturing you in that blue shirt. Is it the same one--"

"The same one I always wear, yeah," Yuuri says. A short pause and then, "What are you wearing?"

Victor glances down at himself and says, "Just what I slept in."

"Oh."

Are you okay? Victor wants to ask. But he doesn't want to put his heart through Yuuri lying to him.

So it's Yuuri who asks, "Are you okay?"

Victor can't remember where they had settled on the whole " _tell Yuuri I'm a fucking mess_ "/" _no, tell him I'm fine_ " debate from the other night. He lets out a shaky breath. "Do you really want the answer to that, Yuuri?"

"Right. Sorry. Your short program," Yuuri says. "I didn't mean to bring it up."

Victor frowns, it takes him a moment to understand that Yuuri's talking about yesterday's disaster.

"It's fine," Victor says, truthfully. Because it's the last thing on his mind right now.

"You'll do great today, though!" Yuuri says determinedly. "I know you will."

"Thank you," Victor says quietly.

"Good luck," Yuuri says. And then, "Please don't let this all be for nothing."

"What?"

"Never mind," Yuuri says quickly. "It's nothing. Goodbye, Victor."

"Goodbye, Yuuri," Victor says.

He doesn't hang up.

It's a long moment before Yuuri does.

 

Later that day, Victor thinks about how beautiful Yuuri's voice sounded.

And he lands an extra quad.

 

He gets within two points of Yuuri's free skate record and stands on the top of the podium.

 

At the airport, Victor pulls out his phone. He's still astounded that the text he hadn't even meant to send hadn't scared Yuuri away. It had made him call him, in fact. It makes him wonder, what if he lived in a world where he'd pushed send instead of delete every day.

Victor can't stand that possibility. And also can't stand waiting another minute to find out. So he types. His chest is tight. But he pushes send anyways.

The third of their flights lands in St Petersburg. Yakov and Yuri and Victor head to the baggage claim. Yuri complains all the way about why Yakov and Victor had to check luggage for a five day trip.

Yuuri hasn't replied but his message says 'read'.

Maybe that's enough.

 
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
              ♥♥♥ YUURI!!! ♥♥♥
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
      _Madame Barovskaya's back._
    
    
    > _He's supposed to meet her_
    
    
      _at 1800. Would you mind maybe_
    
    
      _distracting Yakov for a couple_
    
    
      _hours?_
    
    
                                       _Ok_  <
    
    
      
    
    Thu, 11/03, 23:57
    
    
              _I would do anything to hear_  <
    
    
                         _your voice again_     
    
    
      
    
    Mon, 11/07, 11:23
    
    
                _At the Osaka airport. It_  <
    
    
                    _feels wrong to be in_     
    
    
                      _Japan without you._     
    
    
                                     _No._  <
    
    
                    _It feels wrong to be_  <
    
    
                   _anywhere without you._     
    
    
    		   (Read 11/07, 11:36)
    
    
    ----------------------------------------
    
    
     |
    
    
    ----------------------------------------

 
    
    
    ---------------------------------   
    
    
    NHK TROPHY   
    
    
    GRAND PRIX SERIES   
    
    
    Nov 4-6  Osaka, Japan   
    
    
    ---------------------------------   
    
    
    MEN, FINAL RESULT   
    
    
    1  [RU] Victor NIKIFOROV
    
    
    2  [TH] Phichit CHULANONT
    
    
    3  [CA] Jean-Jacques LEROY
    
    
    4  [RU] Yuri PLISETSKY
    
    
    5  [US] Leo DE LA IGLESIA
    
    
    6  [JP] Kenjiro MINAMI
    
    
    ---------------------------------   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for waiting for this chapter. It took time to figure out how to say what I wanted to.
> 
> Also, FYI, we are NOT near the end.


	6. November, Part 2

NOVEMBER, cont'd
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                     ♥♥♥ YUURI!!! ♥♥♥
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                    I would do anything to hear < 
    
    
                                your voice again  
    
    
                 -- Mon, 11/07, 11:23 --
    
    
                       At the Osaka airport. It < 
    
    
                      feels wrong to be in Japan  
    
    
                                    without you.  
    
    
                                            No. < 
    
    
                  It feels wrong to be anywhere < 
    
    
                                    without you.  
    
    
                 -- Tue, 11/08, 20:35 --
    
    
                   Makkachin says you're better < 
    
    
                    at chin scratches than me. I  
    
    
                    have you beat at tummy rubs,  
    
    
                                         though.  
    
    
                            (Read 11/08, 21:04)   
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
         |
    
    
        ------------------------------------------

...
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                     ♥♥♥ YUURI!!! ♥♥♥
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                    have you beat at tummy rubs,  
    
    
                                         though.  
    
    
                 -- Wed, 11/09, 07:12 --
    
    
                       The sun will stop rising < 
    
    
                       soon. If you were here, I  
    
    
                       wonder if I would even be  
    
    
                      able to wake you up in the  
    
    
                                         winter.  
    
    
                            (Read 11/09, 07:20)   
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
         |
    
    
        ------------------------------------------

...
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                     ♥♥♥ YUURI!!! ♥♥♥
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                                         winter.  
    
    
                 -- Thu, 11/10, 18:29 --
    
    
                       The Neva froze over last < 
    
    
                     night and Yakov confiscated  
    
    
                   my skates. Does he not know I  
    
    
                        still have my old pairs?  
    
    
                            (Read 11/10, 18:47)   
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
         |
    
    
        ------------------------------------------

...
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                     ♥♥♥ YUURI!!! ♥♥♥
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                   my skates. Does he not know I  
    
    
                        still have my old pairs?  
    
    
                 -- Fri, 11/11, 21:43 --
    
    
                    Don't believe the rumors. I < 
    
    
                   didn't miss the landing and I  
    
    
                         didn't sprain my ankle.  
    
    
                      But the government should < 
    
    
                     really resurface the river.  
    
    
                            (Read 11/12, 01:22)   
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
         |
    
    
        ------------------------------------------

...
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                     ♥♥♥ YUURI!!! ♥♥♥
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                      But the government should < 
    
    
                     really resurface the river.  
    
    
                 -- Sat, 11/12, 12:46 --
    
    
                    I haven't been to Vancouver < 
    
    
                         since the Olympics. The  
    
    
                        weather report says it's  
    
    
                                        snowing.  
    
    
                   I just realized I don't know < 
    
    
                           if you like the snow.  
    
    
                            (Read 11/12, 14:19)   
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
         |
    
    
        ------------------------------------------

...
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                     ♥♥♥ YUURI!!! ♥♥♥
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                   I just realized I don't know < 
    
    
                           if you like the snow.  
    
    
                 -- Sun, 11/13, 23:05 --
    
    
                  Half of my wardrobe is empty. < 
    
    
                      Yuri says I have too many < 
    
    
                        clothes but I can't make  
    
    
                        myself fill it up again.  
    
    
                            (Read 11/14, 03:42)   
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
         |
    
    
        ------------------------------------------

...
    
    
    ---------------------------------   
    
    
    ---------------------------------   
    
    
    TROPHEE DE FRANCE   
    
    
    GRAND PRIX SERIES   
    
    
    Nov 11-13  Paris, France   
    
    
    ---------------------------------   
    
    
    MEN, FINAL RESULT   
    
    
    1  [CH] Christophe GIACOMETTI
    
    
    2  [CN] Cao BIN
    
    
    3  [KR] Seung Gil LEE
    
    
    4  [BE] André ALLAIRE
    
    
    5  [RU] Georgi POPOVICH
    
    
    6  [ES] Sergio PARDO
    
    
    ---------------------------------   
    
    
    ---------------------------------   

...
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                     ♥♥♥ YUURI!!! ♥♥♥
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                        myself fill it up again.  
    
    
                 -- Mon, 11/14, 16:07 --
    
    
                     Chris is complaining about < 
    
    
                     flying directly to Toronto.  
    
    
                         He needs to work on his  
    
    
                                        stamina.  
    
    
                            (Read 11/14, 16:34)   
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
         |
    
    
        ------------------------------------------

...
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                     ♥♥♥ YUURI!!! ♥♥♥
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                         He needs to work on his
    
    
                                        stamina.
    
    
                 -- Tue, 11/15, 18:32 --
    
    
                   35 autographs and 16 selfies < 
    
    
                   later the flight is boarding.  
    
    
                      I used to be more popular < 
    
    
                                      than this.  
    
    
                            (Read 11/15, 18:47)   
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
         |
    
    
        ------------------------------------------

...
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                     ♥♥♥ YUURI!!! ♥♥♥
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                      I used to be more popular < 
    
    
                                      than this.  
    
    
                 -- Wed, 11/16, 05:57 --
    
    
                  Stopover at Heathrow. I'll be < 
    
    
                    in Toronto tonight. Chris is  
    
    
                     already making reservations  
    
    
                   for dinner at Brimstone. Will  
    
    
                                       you come?  
    
    
                            (Read 11/16, 08:26)   
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
         |
    
    
        ------------------------------------------

...
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                     ♥♥♥ YUURI!!! ♥♥♥
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                   for dinner at Brimstone. Will  
    
    
                                       you come?  
    
    
                 -- Thu, 11/17, 11:24 --
    
    
                  I've been waiting 7 months to < 
    
    
                            cheer for you again.  
    
    
                            (Read 11/17, 11:25)   
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
         |
    
    
        ------------------------------------------


	7. November, Part 3

NOVEMBER, cont'd

"It's not height that's your problem. You need to get better at keeping your arms in."

"I can keep my arms in better than you can," Yuri spits out as he shoves open the hotel entrance. Victor has to catch the door before it slams back in his face.

"You should downgrade your triple axel-loop combo to just the axel," Victor continues. "You've been missing your landings and losing points on the whole combo."

Yuri doesn't say anything, or even look at him, as they stride under the tall chandeliers. But he keeps in step with Victor, which means he's listening. Listening in his own way, at least.

"The problem is," Victor tells him. "You miss the combo and you get angry and then you lose presentation points on your next step--"

But then Victor halts. And slowly turns around.

Yuuri's head is bowed as he listens to his coach.

He's so big in Victor's life, that somehow he'd forgotten how small and vulnerable he was. Delicate shoulders under his fitted Japanese team jacket, narrow frame, his arms hugged around himself.

He's vaguely aware of Yuri saying something in a disgusted voice. He thinks he's walking away but he can't take his eyes off of Yuuri.

Suddenly Yuuri glances over and sees him. Victor realizes he's staring. But he can't do anything else.

Yuuri looks back at Allison Chang, who is still speaking to him. He interrupts her in a soft voice and she doesn't look happy. Victor hears her tell Yuuri they'll finish this later.

Then Yuuri turns and steps forward, biting his lip. His brown eyes are wide behind his glasses. His hair falls over his forehead, a little bit longer than Victor remembers.

He is beautiful. So, so beautiful.

Victor opens his mouth to say something, but his throat is dry.

"Hi," Yuuri says quietly. He averts his eyes to the marbled floor.

"Hello, Yuuri." Victor gives away too much of what he feels in how he says Yuuri's name, but he can't care.

Yuuri tightens his arms around himself and asks, "How is your ankle?"

"My ankle?" Victor repeats.

"You said you sprained it? Well, you said you didn't sprain it. So I assumed that meant that you did." Yuuri's eyes remain studiously on the floor.

"Oh, it's fine," Victor waves a hand dismissively. Yuuri got his text from last week. Read it. Remembered it. That's more important than both his ankles. Instead of telling him that, though, he says, "Yakov saw Yuri's video, though."

"I think the whole world saw the video," Yuuri tells him.

"Well, he searched my apartment and confiscated all the skates. So my ankle was better in a couple days."

"Your competition's going to be hard tomorrow if you don't have any skates," Yuuri says, glancing up at him.

"Yuuuri," he whines. Yuuri's lips curve into a wry smile. Victor wonders if there's anything he could say to get the smile to meet his eyes.

"I'm sorry I didn't reply to your texts," Yuuri says quietly, looking back down at the floor. "I kept meaning to and--"

"It's fine," Victor interrupts. And it's worth it for the grateful look when Yuuri glances back up.

"I should go," Yuuri says after a moment's silence. "Coach Chang wants to talk to me about tomorrow's skate."

"Right," Victor says. "You should go."

But they just stare at each other for a long moment.

"Goodbye, Victor," Yuuri says.

Victor doesn't reply and Yuuri walks away.

 

The next day, Victor watches from the boards as Yuuri swaps out his brutal but barely scored step sequences and spins from Beijing for more jumps, including three quads, and gets two points away from breaking Yuri's short program record.

Victor is ten points behind. He hadn't expected Yuuri to up his base score so much since last time, or he would have swapped out some of his own jumps. But he'd gone two skaters before him and it's too late now.

He tries to force himself to be disappointed that Yuuri's in the lead, but Yakov still glares at him for the smile on his face when Yuuri's scores are announced.

 

Victor's free skate is second to last. It's a perfect skate, he doesn't miss so much as half a point. But if Yuuri's upped his base score at all after the Cup of China, then he'll beat Victor overall.

The stadium erupts in applause as Yuuri skates onto the ice. Yuuri must be a fan favorite, even here outside of Japan. Or maybe everyone's just relieved that Victor's reign has finally come to an end.

And, by everyone, Victor includes himself.

He breaks away from the reporters to watch.

He knows this program well. If Victor has watched his Cup of China performance a few (dozen) times, there's only Makkachin to tell anyone.

Well, and Yakov.

And Yuri might tell someone that he'd caught Victor imitating Yuuri's choreography. But, unlike that ill-fated skate on the Neva, he has no proof. The rink after hours had been too dark to get a good video of it.

A year ago, Victor had asked Yuuri, "How can you tell who you're looking at without your glasses? One of these days I'm going to stand somewhere else and you'll give away your eros to a stranger."

"I don't need to memorize where you're standing to find you," Yuuri had told him. He'd thought Yuuri was going to follow that with something romantic, but he should have known better. Yuuri had pressed his hand to the top of Victor's head and said, "I don't need to be able to see to make out your hair."

"The joke will be on you, then, when I go bald," Victor had told him. Yuuri had just graced him with a small, affectionate smile, and skated off for another run-through of his routine.

Today, Yuuri gets into his starting position and Victor can see his eyes up on the domed ceiling. It's if he's very intentionally not making eye contact with anyone.

His movements are smooth, graceful. He shows off an Ina Bauer that sweeps into a quad, as if the four spins of the toe loop were part of the dance and not 10.3 points.

This is the agape Victor hadn't let him skate a year ago. It occurs to him that if he'd given Yuuri agape instead of eros, maybe everything would have been different today.

Or maybe their fate had been decided long before that. After all, Victor had been his idol years before he had been Yuuri's lover.

Yuuri has a quad flip at the end of his program. Victor knows it's not a message to him this time. It just happens to be another quad he has in his arsenal this year.

But Victor sees it coming before Yuuri's even in the air. He lands hard. He lands wrong.

It's not just a touchdown, it's a fall.

Victor's breath catches.

Yuuri gets up. Of course, he gets up, he's Katsuki Yuuri. But only barely before his timer has run out. He stumbles into his ending position, breathing hard.

Victor feels a hard clap on his back but doesn't glance at his coach. He watches Yuuri skate off the ice, still avoiding eye contact with anyone.

Yakov says something, but all Victor can see is Yuuri bury himself in the jacket his coach hands him, shoulders hunched in, arms crossed inside it.
    
    
    ---------------------------------   
    
    
    SKATE CANADA   
    
    
    GRAND PRIX SERIES   
    
    
    Nov 18-20  Toronto, Canada   
    
    
    ---------------------------------   
    
    
    MEN, FINAL RESULT   
    
    
    1  [RU] Victor NIKIFOROV
    
    
    2  [JP] Yuuri KATSUKI
    
    
    3  [CH] Christophe GIACOMETTI
    
    
    4  [CZ] Emil NEKOLA
    
    
    5  [TH] Phichit CHULANONT
    
    
    6  [US] Leo DE LA IGLESIA
    
    
    ---------------------------------   

"Congratulations," Victor tells Yuuri. He smiles down at him from the top of the podium.

Yuuri glances up at him, silver medal catching the camera flashes.

"I didn't--" he starts to protest, but then bites his lip. "I mean, congratulations to you, too."

"Hey, no congratulations for me?" Chris demands from Victor's other side.

Victor slants his eyes over at him then looks back at Yuuri. Yuuri is looking out at the cameras again. He's close enough to touch. If Victor just reaches out for his thin shoulder and--

"Congratulations, Chris," Yuuri says softly.

"Why, thank you, Yuuri," Chris says with a grin. "You could teach Victor some manners, you know."

Yuuri just glances down at his own skates. Victor isn't sure what he's talking about, isn't really following the conversation.

"You coming out with us tonight, oh high and mighty one?" Chris asks.

"I don't--" Victor starts to say, but Chris interrupts him with a laugh.

"Why am I not surprised you knew I was talking to you?"

Victor ignores him. Going out sounds both better and worse than drinking alone in his hotel room, which had been the extent of his plans.

"Yuuri's coming, aren't you?" Chris adds.

"Um, yeah," Yuuri says, still not looking at either of them. "I think so. Phichit and Leo are going."

"There, you see, Victor? No excuses. There might even be a stripper pole there."

Yuuri's cheeks flush as he says, "No, Chris--"

"Aww, don't be shy, Yuuri," Chris teases. "You know you've been wanting another dance off."

"I have not," Yuuri mumbles.

"Where are you going?" Victor asks Chris, just to interrupt the conversation. He used to like teasing Yuuri, used to like the cute flush on his cheeks. But, for someone who almost never gets angry, Victor gets close when anyone else embarrasses Yuuri.

"I'll text you," Chris says.

Victor can always drink alone -- well, with Makkachin for company -- when he gets back to St Petersburg, anyways.

 

 

"He left with Phichit and Leo." Chris sidles up beside Victor in the hotel banquet hall.

Victor had lost track of Yuuri's slicked back hair and ugly blue tie one or two wine glasses ago. He stops his apparently futile search and turns to Chris.

"That means he's still going out to the club tonight," Chris continues with a waggle of his eyebrows.

Victor sighs. "I would have thought you'd try to keep me away, then."

Victor's been confused ever since the podium earlier that day. For months, Chris had made it clear he was on Yuuri's side. Even if Victor had never understood how there could be sides, when all he wanted was what was best for Yuuri, too. And he still doesn't know if that's him or not.

But Chris just smirks at him as he takes a sip of his white wine. "I had an interesting conversation with our little Thai friend about the Hero of Russia's mental health."

Victor doesn't want to imagine what that conversation would have entailed. So he downs the rest of his own wine instead.

"My mental health is fine. I've never been happier," Victor tells him with a big fake grin. He glances around for a waiter for another glass.

Chris snorts. "You're always so down every time you win gold. You should think about not doing that once in a while."

Victor shrugs. He's lonely. He wins gold medals. Two facts, unrelated.

He's not paying attention to where he's looking -- just away from Chris -- and unintentionally catches the eye of one of the sponsors. She smiles and waves, then excuses herself from her conversation and starts making her way over to him.

Chris leans in to Victor. "That's my cue to get going. Bronze medals only have to make a brief appearance."

Apparently, silver does, too.

"I'll text you with where we are," Chris says, before he slips away.

"Congratulations yet again, Mr Nikiforov!" the sponsor says, extending her hand to him.

He forces on a charming smile.

 

 

Victor absently passes the bouncer a Canadian bill. He's not even sure which one it is, just that it's colorful and apparently large enough to let him in.

He looks around. There's an excessive number of strobe lights on the crowded dance floor and the music is barely passable. He looks around for Yuuri but doesn't see him.

If Yuuri's here, he needs a drink. If Yuuri's not here, and a glimpse of him at the banquet is the last time he sees him before the GPF, he needs a dozen drinks.

Chris is at the bar, chatting up a buxom red-head. Victor rolls his eyes. It's well known that Chris's partner doesn't care if he flirts, as long as he doesn't take it too far. Which is unlikely tonight seeing as buxom women aren't exactly his type.

Victor's positive, that if Yuuri isn't here, he could get Chris to wingman for him. He's done it before whether Victor's wanted it or not. Victor briefly wishes he was capable of wanting anyone other than Yuuri. He's pretty sure he used to be attracted to other people once. And sex would at least be a distraction from his life.

But, even if he was tempted, it would surely end in humiliation. Not when he can barely get it up when he's alone anymore.

Victor orders a vodka and ignores the bartender when he yells after him to give him his change.

Chris throws his arm around Victor's shoulders. "My buddy. My friend. Let me introduce you to the lovely--"

The woman gives Victor a lipstick-red smile and supplies a name that he doesn't pay attention to.

Victor glances over at the dance floor and, though the flashes of multicolored lights over the crowd, makes out Leo's brown hair tossing around his head.

Yuuri's the tallest of the three of them. If he's here, Victor should be able to see him before Leo, right?

"He's here," Chris answers his unspoken question. He gestures expansively at the dance floor. "Somewhere."

What if Yuuri's not on the dance floor, though? All the photos of Yuuri with other men flash through Victor's mind. Did he let another man seduce him tonight? Did he follow him to a dark corner? Is he letting him kiss him, touch him, run his hands down to his tight ass?

Yuuri is free of Victor. He can do what he wants, be with whoever he wants. Victor couldn't even resent it. It's his own fault he wasn't a good enough partner that Yuuri preferred him to be his idol.

But Yuuri must, must know how he feels. And Yuuri's selfish sometimes but not cruel. He wouldn't break his heart again right in front of him, would he?

Just as Victor's about to turn back to Chris, convinced he doesn't want to see Yuuri tonight after all, he catches sight of him through a parting of the crowd.

He's dancing with Phichit. Phichit is laughing and stumbling over his feet. Yuuri's holding his hands and he might be the only thing keeping his friend from falling.

But then Phichit looks like he's yelling something in his ear. Yuuri stops dancing and moves to follow him. But Phichit gives him a wave and shake of his head before he heads out of the crowd.

Another man quickly slides in front of Yuuri to take Phichit's place. Yuuri's posture changes slightly, stiffens, but he dances with him anyways.

Victor downs the rest of his vodka and slams his glass onto the bar.

He ignores the other dancers bumping into him as he walks straight through the crowd.

The man Yuuri's dancing with steps forward, reaches out to touch him, and Victor doesn't think about it.

He grabs Yuuri by his hips and pulls him back against himself.

He thinks that his old Yuuri would have yelped, would have panicked. This one just smoothly wraps his fingers around Victor's wrists and lifts his hands off of him. As he turns around, his lips part, as if he's going to say something.

But then their eyes meet.

Yuuri's eyes widen, pupils dilate. His glasses are off. He's in his white button-down and suit pants. He's not wearing his blue tie, thank god.

"Victor," he says. Victor can't hear him, but he knows what his name looks like on Yuuri's lips.

Victor is about to back away, apologize, even if Yuuri can't hear him.

But, just at that moment, Yuuri fists his hands into Victor's shirt and yanks him down.

Yanks him down and kisses him.

Yuuri's mouth begs Victor inside, hot and inviting and so, so perfect.

Victor's hands go back to his hips, tugging him closer. Yuuri tightens his fierce grip over Victor's shoulders.

Finally, Yuuri pulls back, panting. His hair, where it escapes the gel, sticks to the sweat of his forehead.

Victor leans down and starts pressing sloppy kisses to his neck.

"Yuuri, Yuuri, Yuuri," he murmurs, even if Yuuri won't hear him over the music. He licks up the side of his neck, tastes the salt and the sweat.

Yuuri's hands go to his head and he pulls him back to kiss him again.

The crowd spins around them and Yuuri must be leading because Victor didn't even know they were dancing.

"I want to taste you," Victor tells him.

"Yes," Yuuri breathes. His warm breath tickles Victor's ear and Victor leans down, sucks over Yuuri's neck again.

"I want my mouth all over you."

" _Yes_ ," Yuuri says again.

"I want to fuck you." His voice is rough. He kisses under Yuuri's unbuttoned collar. "I want you to fuck me."

" _Victor_ ," Yuuri chokes out.

Victor reaches down to Yuuri's ass. He pulls him closer and hears him gasp as they grind into each other.

"Now," Yuuri says. "Let's go."

He pulls back but Victor just tightens his arms around him. He doesn't want to leave. What if this spell will be over as soon as they step out of the club?

"Please," Yuuri begs. His hands clutch at Victor's waist. Yuuri's hard against him and Victor is weak.

So he decides to pretend that Yuuri means for them to go anywhere else but back to the hotel. St Petersburg or Vancouver or Hasetsu. Anywhere they can stay past checkout time.

He breaks away but grabs for Yuuri's hand. He grips it hard, so hard he's probably going to break a bone. And he'd ease up except Yuuri's clinging back just as forcefully.

 

They only make it as far as an alleyway. Echoes of club music still reach Victor's ears. The bassline pounds out the beat of his heart. Yuuri shoves Victor up against a brick wall and kisses him hard.

He reaches for the button of Victor's pants and Victor's so far, far gone.

Victor's ready to tell him to just rip off his thousand-euro Brioni pants when Yuuri finally gets them unzipped and reaches for his cock.

He kisses Victor through it. Kisses over his gasps of 'Yuuri, Yuuri, Yuuri'.

But, when it's over, when Victor's pants and Yuuri's shirt are ruined, it still doesn't take the edge off. If anything, it makes Victor even more desperate for him.

When Yuuri steps away, Victor grabs for his hand like a drowning man.

Yuuri lets him, but doesn't do anything but look at him for a moment.

Please, please don't let this end in an alleyway, Victor thinks. So he begs, "Come back with me."

There's a twitch of Yuuri's lips, a shy teasing smile. In a brief glance, Victor gets a glimpse of the Yuuri he knows so much better than this one.

The Yuuri that has his heart in his hands and has no idea how easy it is to break.

 

 

"Don't take your eyes off me," Yuuri tells him. There's a dangerous glint in his dark eyes.

Why would you ever think I stopped? Victor wants to ask. But instead he rips Yuuri's pants down and pushes him down onto his bed.

In the seven weeks they'd spent together last year, they'd done all the pieces of this before. They'd been tentative and sweet. Slow and lazy. Impatient. Loud. Quiet.

But they've never fucked each other like this. Never starved for it like this.

 

 

Yuuri's head is on Victor's shoulder.

There's a chain around his neck. A ring attached to it, right over his chest. It rises and falls with every breath he takes.

Victor lifts ring up, warmed from his skin, and presses his lips to it.

"Victor, don't." Yuuri snatches it away from him and hides it in his fist. He looks down in embarrassment, cheeks flushed in the pre-dawn light.

Victor confesses, "I'm wearing mine, too."

Yuuri glances down at his right hand and then back up.

"Don't tease me," he says.

"I'm not," Victor tells him. He presses a soft kiss to Yuuri's lips. "I never took it off. It's there." Another kiss. "You just can't see it. I promise it's there."

There's a tense pause as Yuuri just looks at him, studying his eyes.

"Oh, Victor," he says.

His voice breaks over Victor's name.

 

 

When Victor wakes up, there's a piece of paper where Yuuri had been.

Early flight, it says in uneven capital letters.

There's a ballpoint pen uncapped on the bedside table. There's half-empty Nimbus Hotel notepad.

Victor stands and waits for the rush of hangover that doesn't come. He'd thought he'd been drunk last night. Apparently he'd only been drunk on Yuuri.

 

On his way out of the room, Victor drops a water bottle in the trash. But his eyes catch on a pile of crumpled notepapers. He drops his suitcase and picks them out of the bin.

The first piece of paper reads, in Yuuri's writing, ' ~~Victor~~ '. There's a scribble through his name.

He unfolds the next one:

~~I'm sorry.~~

On the next paper:

~~Please don't think~~

The next:

~~Dear Victor, Thank you for~~

The last one:

~~I can't do this~~

 

...
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                     ♥♥♥ YUURI!!! ♥♥♥
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                                      than this.  
    
    
                 -- Wed, 11/16, 05:57 --
    
    
                  Stopover at Heathrow. I'll be < 
    
    
                    in Toronto tonight. Chris is  
    
    
                     already making reservations  
    
    
                   for dinner at Brimstone. Will  
    
    
                                       you come?  
    
    
                 -- Thu, 11/17, 11:24 --
    
    
                  I've been waiting 7 months to < 
    
    
                            cheer for you again.  
    
    
                 -- Mon, 11/21, 07:46 --
    
    
                                     I'm sorry. < 
    
    
                            (Read 11/21, 18:43)   
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
         |
    
    
        ------------------------------------------

...
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                     ♥♥♥ YUURI!!! ♥♥♥
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                            cheer for you again.  
    
    
                 -- Mon, 11/21, 07:46 --
    
    
                                     I'm sorry. < 
    
    
                            (Read 11/21, 18:43)   
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
         |
    
    
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...
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                     ♥♥♥ YUURI!!! ♥♥♥
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                            cheer for you again.  
    
    
                 -- Mon, 11/21, 07:46 --
    
    
                                     I'm sorry. < 
    
    
                            (Read 11/21, 18:43)   
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
         |
    
    
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...
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                     ♥♥♥ YUURI!!! ♥♥♥
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                            cheer for you again.  
    
    
                 -- Mon, 11/21, 07:46 --
    
    
                                     I'm sorry. < 
    
    
                            (Read 11/21, 18:43)   
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
         |
    
    
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...
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                     ♥♥♥ YUURI!!! ♥♥♥
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                            cheer for you again.  
    
    
                 -- Mon, 11/21, 07:46 --
    
    
                                     I'm sorry. < 
    
    
                            (Read 11/21, 18:43)   
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
         |
    
    
        ------------------------------------------

...
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                     ♥♥♥ YUURI!!! ♥♥♥
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                            cheer for you again.  
    
    
                 -- Mon, 11/21, 07:46 --
    
    
                                     I'm sorry. < 
    
    
                            (Read 11/21, 18:43)   
    
    
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         |
    
    
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...

 

Victor hears a timid knock on his apartment door.

If it was Yakov, he'd hear yelling already, because his coach never waits for Victor to let him in before starting whatever tirade he's on.

If it was Yuri, he'd hear pounding fists at the door and then it would slam open with the key Victor still doesn't remember giving him.

His dogwalker has a key that Victor does remember giving her. But she knows that Victor's home today.

And no one else comes here.

His mail goes to the front desk.

Deliveries go to the rink.

So Victor considers ignoring the knock. But then Makkachin jumps down from beside him, wagging her tail.

Victor unfolds himself from the couch just as Makkachin gives a friendly bark at the door. Victor sighs at her as he opens it.

And then finds himself with a desperate armful of Katsuki Yuuri.

"Victor," he chokes out. Victor feels wet tears against his shirt. "I'm so sorry."


	8. November, Part 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: To allow for reader interpretation (and later revelations), I preferred not to put trigger warnings in the end notes. But if you know you have specific triggers, [please click here for warnings](https://rougeandtonic.tumblr.com/post/160234877123/warnings-for-see-you-next-to-allow-for).
> 
> (The tags ‘No Archive Warnings Apply’ and 'Happy Ending’ are, and will remain, accurate)

NOVEMBER, cont'd

 

Stunned, Victor catches him in his arms.

"Yuuri?" He wonders if this is the mental breakdown Yakov has been long anticipating. If it is, he'll take it. It's more of Yuuri than he thought he'd have again.

Yuuri clings to him and Victor rubs his back through his too thin jacket. He doesn't know how long they stand like this, but it's enough time for Victor to start to get cold in the uninsulated hallway. And Yuuri is either trembling from tears or shivering from cold.

Victor steps back and pushes his front door open. As soon as there's enough room for her to squeeze through, Makkachin takes a leap onto Yuuri, forcing him to stumble back. Victor watches as Yuuri bends to scratch under her chin with his hands still in gloves. Makkachin wages excitedly.

"Come in," Victor tells Yuuri.

But Yuuri doesn't move. His hands freeze on Makkachin, tear stained brown eyes cautious behind his glasses.

"Really?" he asks.

" _Yes_ ," Victor says. He stares after him as Yuuri straightens and shuffles in through the doorway. Victor grabs his duffel bag and follows. Did Yuuri actually think Victor was capable of turning him away?

Victor lays his hand over Yuuri's back and guides him into the front hallway and pushes the door shut behind them. Makkachin's tongue lolls happily as she runs along in front of Yuuri.

But Yuuri stops.

"I'm sorry," he says again.

"What for?" Victor asks, stepping in closer to him. He can think of a few things Yuuri could be sorry for, but Victor had forgiven him every one the second he walked through his door.

"I didn't mean to just show up like this." Yuuri bites his lip. "I'm sure I could find a hotel or something if you want me to. I just bought the plane ticket and I didn't really think."

Victor reaches out and runs a thumb over Yuuri's face, brushing away the tears that are still wet over his flushed cheek.

"I can't do this anymore, Victor. I'm not--"

When he looks back up at Victor, his brown eyes shine with new tears.

"I'm not okay without you," Yuuri finishes quietly.

"Oh, Yuuri," Victor says. He grabs Yuuri into his arms again and tugs him close.

He can feel Yuuri's gloved fingers dig into his back and Victor squeezes him tighter in response. He wonders what "not okay" means. If it means half the list of self destructive things Victor knows he's been doing this past year.

But Victor will make sure that getting on the plane to St Petersburg isn't another thing to add to that list. He'll erase that list. Burn it. Tear it up.

If Yuuri will let him, he'll be the one who takes care of him. Who makes things okay.

Yuuri says into the quiet, "I tried to let you go, I swear I did. I tried to do the right thing. I tried to give you this."

Victor adjusts his arms around Yuuri so he can hold him tighter. He hopes it's tight enough.

"But then I saw you in Toronto. And your texts." Yuuri's words are muffled against Victor's chest. "And I thought maybe you might not mind -- I mean, do you want me to stay?"

"Yes," Victor says emphatically. He pulls back so he can look into Yuuri's eyes. They're still red-rimmed behind his glasses, wide and a little scared. Victor wants to tell him to stay the rest of his life. He compromises with himself and just repeats, "Stay."

"Okay," Yuuri says, ducking his eyes.

Victor leans in and gives him a soft kiss.

He threads his fingers through Yuuri's hair and, with his other arm, holds him tight around his waist. Yuuri leans, pliant, into him. He tastes like tears.

"Stay," Victor says again, against his cold-chapped lips.

 

 

Victor hears the shower shut off and he still hasn't finished choosing clothes for Yuuri.

He can't decide if Yuuri would prefer the blue or the gray shirt. The gray one is softer. And its v-neck is wide in a way that Victor would love to see slipping over Yuuri's shoulder. But it might not be warm enough.

The blue one has a smaller collar but the material is thinner and it doesn't match the track pants Victor had finally decided on.

When Victor had offered him a hot shower, Yuuri had glanced down at his duffel bag and said, "I don't really have any clothes."

His luggage must have been delayed. Victor was about to ask when the airline was delivering it and offer to call to make sure they have the right address, but practical thoughts were banished when Yuuri asked, shyly,

"Do you have anything I could borrow?"

Victor had said "yes" possibly a bit too quickly.

The dark gray hoodie currently laid out on his bed is the only piece of clothing Victor hadn't agonized over. Yuuri had worn it in Hasetsu once and said how comfortable it was and that 'It reminds me of being hugged by you.'

He clearly hadn't meant to say that aloud and had flushed in embarrassment afterwards. But, after that, Victor had found all kinds of excuses to get him to wear it.

"Aren't you cold, Yuuri?" he'd whine. And Yuuri would give him a strange look but accept the offer of his hoodie.

This past year, it's stayed neatly folded and unworn in his wardrobe.

Victor decides on the gray shirt. The over-large neck won't matter if he's wearing the hoodie anyways. He puts the blue one back in the drawer.

Then hesitates at the next drawer over. Should he put out underwear for Yuuri? He wouldn't have hesitated a year ago. He happens to know that Yuuri, though he usually wears a completely different style, looks amazing in Victor's underwear. It's the one article of clothing they wear the same size. Victor is lean through his hips and he loves the way that Yuuri is usually not.

But this isn't a year ago. This isn't even a week ago in his hotel room in Toronto. Today feels delicate, like cracked glass. Would Yuuri be intimidated or grateful if Victor put on a pair for him today?

He hears the creak of the bathroom door opening and glances back as Yuuri walks into the room.

There's drop of water falling down his forehead from his wet hair and the bottoms of his glasses are fogged up. The white towel Victor had given him slung over his hipbones. Victor's eyes trace the curves of his ribs, the flat muscles of his abdomen.

And the ring around his neck.

Yuuri catches his glance and quickly covers up the ring with his hand.

"I--" Victor clears his throat. "I picked out some clothes."

"Thank you, Victor," Yuuri says, stepping towards the bed.

"I have others," Victor says.

"I would hope so."

"No, Yuuri." Victor shakes his head, trying to rid himself of his own awkwardness. He gestures at the open wardrobe. "If you want anything else, take whatever you need."

Then, thinking about his current dilemma, he points to the drawer he was debating over and gives Yuuri a lascivious wink as he says, "There are some private garments here. Choose whichever you like."

But Yuuri doesn't even seem to register him. He's too busy staring at the wardrobe.

"It's empty," he says quietly.

Victor glances behind himself and frowns. "Only half of it."

Yuuri bites his lip and steps around Victor. He runs a hand over an empty shelf.

"I got your text. I just didn't think--" he starts to say.

"I need to feed Makkachin," Victor interrupts brightly. It's an hour or so early but, by the thump of Makkachin's tail at hearing her name it's not like she's going to complain. He heads for the hallway.

 

 

"It looks just like the magazines."

Victor turns around from where he's sifting tea out of the mug. Yuuri is standing in the next room, looking around. He's wearing the clothes Victor had picked out, pieces of hair sticking up as they dry. He looks warm and comfortable and Victor wants to wraps his arms around him forever.

"What does?" Victor asks, grabbing the mug.

"This." He gestures around at the room at the couch, the fireplace, the glass dining table. "Everything."

"From what magazines?" Victor asks. He presses the mug into Yuuri's hands, who takes it with one of his small shy smiles. It's Victor's second-favorite of Yuuri's smiles.

"Green tea?" Yuuri says as he takes a sip.

Victor murmurs assent. Victor is never really one for self-control, so he presses up against Yuuri's back and circles his arms around his waist. Yuuri leans back into him. He's as easy to cuddle as ever, especially in Victor's clothing.

"I didn't know you liked green tea," Yuuri says.

"I developed a taste for it." _It reminded me of you_ , Victor doesn't say. "Even I can't drink vodka all the time."

They sit down on the couch. Victor settles in right next to him, keeps his arm around his waist. Now that Victor's allowed to touch him again, he can't be expected to ever stop.

"It was a few years ago," Yuuri says between sips. "I think it was some home decorating magazine, but it was all in Russian."

Victor vaguely remembers that photo shoot. He leans his head on Yuuri's shoulder, and slips a hand under his shirt. He leaves it right above the waist of his sweatpants, where's he's nice and warm.

"It's nice," Yuuri says. Victor hums questioningly and Yuuri adds, "Your apartment. It's nice."

"I'm glad you think so," Victor says honestly.

Yuuri snuggles closer into Victor. Victor rubs his hand up his warm side, under his shirt. Yuuri hums comfortably.

"Before that shoot, Yakov had a decorator come. They made me get all new furniture," Victor tells him.

"How long have you lived here?"

"A while," Victor says. He'd bought the apartment soon after he'd gotten silver in his first GPF and the sponsorships had really started rolling in. Buying an expensive apartment in one of St Petersburg's new modern buildings had seemed like the thing to do.

Yuuri takes a last sip of his tea and Victor takes the mug for him. He sets it down next to the stack of Japanese magazines. Yuuri either hasn't noticed, or has decided not to question, why Victor has a copy of the latest Number. Or maybe it's just obvious that Victor would have bought it for the feature on Yuuri.

"I've never lived alone," Yuuri says, breaking through Victor's thoughts. "What is it like?"

Besides those months in Hasetsu, Victor has lived alone since he was sixteen. He doesn't want to make himself sound pathetic, like no one would have wanted to live with him. Or overcompensate and make Yuuri want to try it.

So, instead, he stands up, offers Yuuri his hand, and says, "Are you hungry? Let's get some food."

 

 

It's dark outside, but that doesn't say a lot about the time of day since it's almost December.

They're walking along Kovalenko Street hand-in-hand. There's a Western-style supermarket that opened a few years after Victor moved into this neighborhood. The market three blocks further has better fresh milk and produce. But Victor wants to give Yuuri some familiarity.

Yuuri's in one of Victor's woolen coats and scarves. The jacket he'd arrived in was entirely inadequate for a Russian winter. Yuuri had bristled when he told him this. He'd lived in Detroit for five years, after all. He'd just been in a hurry to catch the plane and this was the jacket he'd had on at the time.

"It'll be dark most of the day soon," Victor tells him. As the words come out, he wants to take back the casual assumption that Yuuri will be here for that.

But then Yuuri gives him a small, amused look and says, "I got your text. I'm prepared."

"You are?" Victor says. "You forgot a winter coat but you brought an industrial strength alarm?"

"Mentally prepared," he says. Then his lips twitch and he continues, "I'll leave it to you to figure out how to wake me up in the mornings."

"Just remember you asked for it," Victor says, grinning at him.

One of his top five fantasies is waking Yuuri up with kisses. He would start at his neck, and trail soft kisses down to his collarbone and chest, and then back up to his lips, and Yuuri would be awake by then and turn in his arms and--

Victor tries to suppress the surge of hope that any of this might come true.

But Yuuri remembered his text. And that's something.

Of course Victor had seen the 'read' markers on his texts earlier this month. And it wasn't that much of a surprise that Yuuri hadn't replied. He isn't reliable at texting on a good day. But Victor had started to feel like he was still typing drafts that disappeared into the ether.

But, speaking of phones and Yuuri's inability to use one like a normal person, Yuuri has his out and appears to be finally turning it back on after the flight.

Victor can hear the vibration after vibration as messages come in.

"Oh," Yuuri says, biting his lip as he stares down at his phone.

Victor raises an eyebrow at him. "Did you tell anyone you were coming here?"

"I left a note for Leo," he says defensively.

Victor knows a thing or two about Yuuri's notes now. He wonders if it contained more than two words.

He throws an arm around Yuuri's shoulders and can't help but glance over at his notifications when he catches Phichit's name.

> Phichit _: I love you. We all love you. I know things have been hard. But please don't do anything stupid. Call me._
> 
> 3 missed calls.
> 
> Phichit _: We're all worried about you, pick up the phone._
> 
> Phichit: _Yuuri, please answer._

Yuuri quickly pushes the power button.

Phichit must have known Yuuri was planning to come to St Petersburg. He'd probably been trying to talk him out of it.

And Victor can't blame him. The decision to spend two days flying across the world two weeks before the GPF was probably ill-advised. Objectively-speaking. He's sure Yuuri's coach isn't happy, either.

But Victor will never, ever regret Yuuri getting on that plane.

"We should stop by the rink tonight," Victor says, thinking about it. Victor had spent the early morning skating, but Yuuri can't afford to miss another day this close to the GPF.

"Your rink?" Yuuri asks, looking at him, expression lightening.

Victor smiles at him. "Why, of course! You can see where all the magic happens."

 

 

"What do you need to get?" Victor asks as they step into the brightly lit store.

"Whatever you normally eat is fine," Yuuri says.

"Nice try." Victor wags a finger at him. "But your coach said she had a meal plan for you."

Victor's had almost a year to get used to the idea that Yuuri has a coach who isn't him. A coach who got Yuuri golds at World's and Four Continents and the Cup of China. So, if she's going to get him a GPF gold, Victor can't get in the way of that.

Even if part of that includes Yuuri's diet. She obviously has a different diet for Yuuri than Victor had had for him, seeing as he looks at least a couple kilos thinner than the weight Victor had insisted he get down to last year.

"When did you talk to my coach?" Yuuri asks. He pulls away and looking at Victor with his brow creased. "And, um, what else did you talk about?"

Victor thinks about all the things Allison said that Yuuri definitely wouldn't want him to know.

"Just that you're as good at following your diet plan as you've always been." Victor smirks at him and pokes him in the stomach.

"Hey!" Yuuri exclaims. "I am in competition shape."

Victor hums as he picks up a shopping basket. "Whatever you say, Yurochka."

Yuuri grumbles something at him as he walks over to the produce. But Victor catches the smile trying to escape his lips, and he congratulates himself on getting something right.

 

Yuuri seems confused by the distinct lack of food and condiments in Victor's kitchen, but they bought enough that Victor doesn't see why it matters.

They eat and then they head over to the rink.

It's late and they're the only ones there, as Victor had hoped. Victor grins as he watches Yuuri fanboy over his low-tech Soviet-style rink.

"This is where I grew up," he tells Yuuri, not without some pride.

 

They don't talk about it, just end up in bed together that night.

Victor clings his arms around Yuuri, and Yuuri lies half on Victor's chest. They kiss gentle, close-mouthed kisses, until Yuuri falls asleep.

Victor just watches him and makes sure he doesn't loosen his hold on him.

 

The next morning, Victor's pulling yogurts for both of them out of the fridge, and Yuuri's choosing fruit from the bowl when Yuuri comments on the circles under Victor's eyes.

"Did you sleep last night?" he asks with a furrowed brow.

Victor, filter missing from lack of sleep, says, "I didn't want to wake up alone."


	9. November, Part 5

NOVEMBER, cont'd

 

Yuuri's eyes widen and Victor swallows. He hadn't meant to say it. He wouldn't say it again. But now that it's out there, he's too tired to figure out how to deny it.

So, instead, he gives Yuuri a well-practiced grin and says, "So I didn't."

"You also didn't sleep," Yuuri replies, biting his lip. His shoulders are slumped down, apple held limp in his hand.

"I probably dozed a little," he assures him.

Yuuri opens his mouth but he's interrupted by a pounding at the door.

"Who is that?" Yuuri asks.

Victor hesitates halfway there. He'd much rather hear what Yuuri had been about to say than face whatever unpleasantness is about to enter his apartment.

But, before Victor can even decide to ignore the knocking, the door bursts open, revealing an angry mess of a sixteen year old.

"Where is he, old man?" Yuri demands as he stomps into the apartment, trailing in dirty snow from his boots. There's pause when he frowns in consternation. "And why do you look like shit?"

Victor tries to come up with a suitably flippant reply, but is saved by Yuuri stepping cautiously out of the kitchen.

"Hi, Yurio," he says in a soft voice.

Yuri halts and actually looks taken aback despite apparently knowing that he would be there. He glances at Victor, then back at Yuuri.

"Georgi is the only one who thought it was real, you know. Mila thought it was Photoshopped." He snorts and shakes his head at Victor. "As if you know what Photoshop is. I had bet you were pathetic enough to post an old photo and tag it as new."

"Post what?" Yuuri asks, coming up to stand next to Victor. Victor wants to put his arm around him, pull him closer. But there was a tension after his ill-considered words a few minutes ago that makes him worry if it would be welcome.

Yuri rolls his eyes. "You know what I'm talking about. Seriously, katsudon, did you somehow get as immature as this idiot this past year?"

"Are you talking about the vegetable photo?" Yuuri asks. He turns to Victor, crease in his brow. "You posted that?"

Ah. Now Victor remembers posting the selfie he'd taken in the supermarket yesterday. He'd tricked Yuuri into holding an especially phallic squash and Yuuri had pretended to not know what was so funny about it.

Victor hadn't considered that anyone would read anything more into it than that. Mostly he'd just been proud to have Yuuri back in his instagram feed.

"Sorry?" Victor offers.

Yuuri sighs and slumps back against the kitchen island. "It's one way to tell everyone I'm here, I guess."

"What the hell _are_ you doing here, katsudon?" Yurio demands.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Victor interrupts. "Did you just leave in the middle of practice?"

It's not like Yuri at all to skip out on a minute of his rink time. He'd been working himself to the bone for months.

But Yuri shoots back, "It's better than not showing up at all."

Victor shrugs, though he can feel Yuuri's worried eyes on him.

"Breakfast, Yuri?" Victor asks.

"Are you saying that you have actual food in this place?" Yuri asks. "Katsudon's here, what, one day and you're already living like an actual human being again?"

"You want to eat or not?"

"Fine."

Victor catches Yuuri's eyes on him, but they're inscrutable behind his glasses. As Victor walks past, he reaches out to touch his shoulder without thinking about it. But Yuuri doesn't stiffen or move away and Victor's chest unclenches. He exhales the breath he didn't know he was holding and he leans down to kiss Yuuri's forehead before continuing into the kitchen.

"Anyways." Yuri turns his narrowed eyes back on Yuuri. He takes an angry seat at the kitchen island and catches the yogurt Victor throws to him. He wrinkles his nose at it, but Victor knows that blueberry is his favorite. "Yakov's too busy talking to your coach to notice I'm gone."

"My coach?" Yuuri asks. He takes the yogurt Victor presses into his hands distractedly. "Why would he be talking to my coach?"

Victor can hear the anxiety in Yuuri's voice and see how his posture stiffens. He dumps the rest of the food on the counter and comes up behind him to wrap his arms around his shoulders. Yuuri, though his posture is still stiff, subtly leans into his touch and Victor rests his chin on his shoulder.

Yuri rolls his eyes as he rips the top off his yogurt.

"I don't know," Yuri finally answers. "Probably something about you running off to St Petersburg when you're supposed to be training for the Grand Prix Finals."

"Right," Yuuri says in a small voice. "I probably need to talk to Coach Chang."

Victor squeezes his arms around his shoulders and suggests, "You could just turn your phone on."

"Yeah," Yuuri says. He turns his head to where it's sitting on the counter with a blank black screen.

 

 

Yuuri huddles in the corner of the couch, hugging his knees to his chest as he holds the phone to his ear.

Yuri's gone back to the rink after exacting a promise from Yuuri that he will join him in the ballet studio before he leaves for the Rostelecom Cup.

Victor stands awkwardly in the doorway to the hall as he listens to Yuuri go through a series of multiple apologies to his coach. His instincts tell him to go to him, but maybe he's supposed to give him privacy.

When Yuuri looks up at him with eyes wide and anxious, it makes up Victor's mind for him. He crosses the room in a few steps and sits down on the couch next to Yuuri. He wraps his arms around his shoulders and Yuuri sinks into his side. Victor presses his lips to the back of his neck.

Makkachin hops up and joins them. Yuuri absently pets Makkachin's head as he listens to the phone.

Victor's close enough to hear Allison on the other end of the line. She's telling Yuuri that she'll be here in the morning, that she's already at the airport.

"No, no, no," Yuuri protests, anxiety in his voice. "You don't -- I'm the one who did this. I don't deserve you to follow me to Russia."

"Yuuri," she says, voice weary but firm. "However short-sighted your decisions have been lately, you hired me to help you win. I will do whatever I need to for you to win in Marseille."

"But what about Richard?" Yuuri protests. "He's competing, too."

"You keep forgetting you're the world champion here, Yuuri. He's a junior going to his first Grand Prix Finals," she replies. "He can work with the assistants."

"So you're really coming here."

"I can't have you lose the training time to come back to Vancouver and then fly to France days later. So we'll have to do the rest of your training in St Petersburg." Her voice is still firm but, Victor has to admit, still gentle with Yuuri. "I'm working on getting you rink time. It's not going to be easy and it may take a good cut of your sponsorship money. Most of the rinks aren't good enough quality for your jumps. The government owns the rink we need and they obviously aren't enthused about giving a foreign competitor practice time. But Yakov Feltsman has been quite helpful in trying to negotiate it for us."

"Oh," Yuuri says in a small voice. "I didn't think about all that. I'm sorry I'm so much trouble."

"Look, Yuuri," she says. "I know there's a lot of things you didn't think about. We can talk about it later. For now, I just need you to focus on your skating. I'll figure out everything else. I also reserved you a hotel room, I'll text you the details."

"No, I don't need--I mean, I think I have a place to stay." Yuuri glances nervously back at Victor and Victor tightens his arms around him.

"Yuuri," she sighs. "I understand you have some sort of past relationship with Victor Nikiforov. I don't know all the details but I know it's going to detract from both of your preparations if you stay with him. Do you really think it's fair to distract your main competitor two weeks before the Grand Prix Finals?"

Yuuri tenses in Victor's arms and Victor is ready with an indignant protest, but Allison continues.

"We'll talk about it when I get there, all right? And I'll let you know the arrangements for rink time as soon as I can," she says. "I want you to make good use of your time. Work on your stretches and strength training. I'll send you the address of a gym nearby. As soon as we get you time on the ice, I want you to make good use of it. Your main focus needs to be the jumps we're adding to your free skate."

"Okay," Yuuri says in a small voice. Then adds, "I'm sorry."

Victor hears another sigh on the other end of the phone.

"I know. I'll be in touch," Allison says.

Yuuri brings the phone down from his ear and stares at the hung up call for a long moment. Victor wants to say, please don't leave. He wants to say, the only thing you're distracting me from is an empty life.

"She, um. My coach is coming here," Yuuri tells him.

"I know," Victor says. "I heard."

"Right." Yuuri shifts so he's laying his head on Victor's shoulder and wraps an arm around his chest. Victor rubs his back over another of his own shirts that Yuuri had picked out that morning.

Yuuri lets Victor hold him for a long time before suddenly pulling back.

"Victor! You need to go to practice," he says, wide-eyed.

"It's fine," Victor says.

"No, you can't just skip practice because I'm here," Yuuri says as he scrambles to his feet. "Yurio said you weren't at the free rink time this morning. You should go now."

"No," Victor says firmly, standing up alongside him. Without looking at a clock, he adds, "The free skate time for seniors is over."

"But--"

"Look, I have time later today with Yakov," Victor tells him. He hadn't wanted to say anything, would have preferred to quietly skip it like he had yesterday. But he can't bring himself to add one more item to the list of things that Yuuri feels guilty about.

"Oh," Yuuri says, and actually seems to relax a little. "You'll go to that."

"Yes," Victor says. "I'll spend extra time on the ice afterwards to make up for this morning. And we can go work out at that gym together beforehand, all right?"

Yuuri nods, seemingly at least partially appeased. He glances around as if looking for a distraction and then settles on the kitchen.

"I'll make some tea," he says.

Victor gives Makkachin a pet before following him. Yuuri finds the teabags and mugs easily, since they're the only things in the otherwise empty cupboard above the kettle. Then he goes to fill the kettle from the sink but Victor stops him.

"Here," he says, and hands him a water bottle.

Yuuri frowns at it.

"Most people just boil the tap water," Victor tells him. "But Yakov insists."

"All right," Yuuri says.

"Plus," Victor adds. "You don't want to bring green tea to a boil anyways."

Yuuri eyes him.

"Hey, I learned something in Japan," Victor says with a smile. Yuuri shakes his head at him, but a ghost of amusement crosses his face as he pours the bottle into the kettle and turns it on.

Victor hugs him from behind and rests his head on Yuuri's back as they wait for it to heat up. He's starting to drift off standing there when he's interrupted by Makkachin's scratch at the door.

"Does Makkachin need to go out?" Yuuri asks. "I can take her."

"No, it's fine. I took her out before breakfast," Victor says with a yawn. "She's just remembered she hasn't gotten her real walk yet. But it can wait."

"No, no," Yuuri says. He unplugs the kettle and turns around.

Victor is regretfully forced to release him as Yuuri bends down to pet Makkachin instead. Her tail wags enthusiastically and Yuuri buries his face in her neck.

"I've messed up things for everyone else," Yuuri mumbles. "Let me do the right thing by her, at least."

"No," Victor says firmly as he grabs Makkachin's leash from the shelf. "You haven't messed up anything."

"I should have called you," Yuuri says. His face is still half hidden in Makkachin's curly fur. "I should have been strong enough to wait until after the Grand Prix Finals. Or your nationals. Or until the season ended after World's."

"Yuuri--" Victor starts to interrupt.

"I tried so hard and now I'm ruining everything for you," Yuuri says, looking up with mournful eyes from where he's still clutching Makkachin. "I'm sorry, Victor."

Victor wishes, desperately, that he had the words to convince Yuuri that he has everything exactly wrong.

Instead, he asks him, "Why did you come here?"

Yuuri gives him a hesitant look as he stands up. Makkachin, no longer the center of his attention, starts barking at Victor for holding her leash.

"We should take Makkachin out now," Yuuri says.

 

 

Victor can't help but sneak looks at Yuuri as they walk, as if he's going to disappear. He wishes he was holding Yuuri's hand like when they'd walked to the store yesterday.

But this tension between them since early this morning is only growing. He imagines it as a string between them, pulled taut. One wrong choice could break it and he'd lose Yuuri forever.

It's not like Victor doesn't know he's being ridiculous. Usually he's only this dramatic on the outside. So he shakes his head at himself and reaches out to grab Yuuri's gloved hand.

Yuuri gives him a quick glance and there's a small shy smile on his face.

Victor suddenly wonders if his anxiety this morning is what Yuuri feels all the time.

He squeezes Yuuri's hand tighter.

They're on the bridge over the Neva when Yuuri suddenly halts, stopping Victor with him by their joined hands. Victor looks back at him curiously. Yuuri's looking down at the frozen river, lit by the sun just above the horizon. He turns to Victor.

"So this is your real home rink?" he asks, a little bit of a teasing glint in his eyes.

Victor grins back at him.

"Just don't tell Yakov that," he says.

"Never," Yuuri agrees.

Victor watches Yuuri's breath condense and waft up in the air. It's a nice enough day out. The snow from overnight has cleared from the sky and it's closer to zero than it has been since he'd gotten back from Toronto.

"There used to be trolleys that ran over the river in the winter," Victor tells him, just to have something to say.

"Really?" Yuuri asks, glancing back down and then back at Victor. "The ice freezes that thick?"

"I guess so," Victor says. "Though that was probably a hundred years ago. Now the metro runs underneath."

They stand there for a moment, watching people walk across the snow-covered ice as if it's just another street. Makkachin waits patiently enough beside them.

"Yuuri," Victor starts again.

"Yes?"

"Please tell me why you came."

Yuuri immediately looks down. Victor follows his eyes to the snow-covered cobblestone and his borrowed boots.

"We should keep walking," Yuuri says. "It's getting cold."

Victor doesn't argue. They cross the bridge and he leads them off the main street to the walkway above the river. He kneels down to undo Makkachin's leash without letting go of Yuuri's hand.

Makkachin wanders ahead of them, looking for her favorite places to sniff.

"Phichit," Yuuri says after a minute of walking silently side by side.

"What about Phichit?" Victor asks.

"He made me promise that if I was, um. Not okay. That I would talk to you."

Victor looks over at him.

"I probably should have just called," Yuuri says. "I think that's all he meant. But I was at the rink the other day in the middle of a run-through of my free skate and I just couldn't do it anymore."

"Do what?" Victor asks. He rubs the side of Yuuri's gloved hand with his thumb.

"Anything," Yuuri says. And sighs. He stares out at the Neva, avoiding Victor's eyes as they continue walking.

"Yuuri," Victor murmurs. He knows he needs to say something but he doesn't know what it is.

But it's Yuuri who keeps talking.

"I told Coach Chang I was sorry, and I know she didn't know what I meant it for, but I took my bag and my phone and I still had my passport with me from flying to Toronto, so I found a last minute flight here. It left in an hour. I put a note in Leo's locker and I called a taxi to pick me up at the rink and..." He takes a shaky breath. "You know everything else, I guess. I had your address from that paperwork we did for your Japanese visa. I just showed it to a taxi driver at the airport. I'd forgotten to exchange my money to rubles but he agreed to take my Canadian money, though I think he was complaining that they weren't American dollars. It was hard to tell. But I found your apartment and... Anyways, that's why I don't have anything but my skate bag with me. It was good you had an extra toothbrush."

Victor halts and Yuuri glances up at him. Victor reaches out and grips his upper arms. He leans forward so their foreheads are touching, and he says,

"Yuuri, listen to me."

"Okay," Yuuri says.

"And believe me. You have to promise you'll believe me."

There's a long hesitation.

"Promise," Victor says firmly, tightening his grip on Yuuri's arms.

"Okay," Yuuri whispers. "I'll believe you."

"Thank you."

"What?"

"Thank you," Victor repeats.

"Oh," Yuuri says. He tries to look away but Victor cups his face in leather gloves. He gives him a long, gentle kiss.

When he finally pulls back, he wipes Yuuri's tears away before they can freeze on his lashes.

Yuuri looks back at him with big brown eyes as Victor steps back.

Makkachin's down the pathway greeting some friendly mutt. Victor calls out to her and she bounds back to them with the enthusiasm of a much younger dog.

"Moya lyubov." Victor turns back to Yuuri and takes his hand again. "Let's turn around here."


	10. November, Part 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for waiting for this one - apologies it took so long!

NOVEMBER, cont'd

"Come with me," Victor says as he zips up his warmup jacket.

"It's your private practice time," Yuuri reminds him. He's sitting cross-legged on the couch tapping on his phone. Makkachin's settled beside him. The photo Victor had surreptitiously taken already has 524 likes on Instagram.

"I don't need the whole rink for that," Victor says. He reaches out an arm to Yuuri and resorts to whining, "Yuuuuri, come with me."

"I can't," Yuuri tells him.

But he puts down his phone and takes Victor's hand anyways, uncrossing his legs as he stands up. Victor tugs him close enough to wrap his arms around his waist.

"But you came with me last night," Victor protests.

"I got an email from my coach," Yuuri says, head tilted up to look at him. "She said if I look like I'm following the rules, it'll help in their negotiations to get me rink time."

"But you need to practice," Victor argues.

"You'll just be more embarrassed when I beat you when I've had less practice time." Yuuri smiles back at him, even as he puts his arms around Victor's neck.

"You wish," Victor tells him.

Behind his smile, there's a sadness in Yuuri's big eyes. Victor wonders if he thinks he's hiding it. He wonders if Yuuri is looking closely enough to see the same in his own.

But Victor tries to ignore that thought. Instead, he hums as he slides his hands gently up and down Yuuri's sides, over his own long-sleeved shirt.

Victor had worn this shirt often when coaching Yuuri back in Hasetsu. It's one of his more form-fitting ones. Victor knows his strengths and knew that Yuuri would sneak glances at him in it. Yuuri's a lot more obvious than he thinks he is sometimes.

Of course, that's fooled Victor more than once into thinking he understands him.

"It looks good on you," Victor says.

"What does?"

"My shirt," Victor says. It's a size too big for him, especially with how thin he is this season.

"Oh," Yuuri says. "I'm still sorry I have to borrow your clothes. Leo packed a bag for me of my stuff. My coach is bringing it with her."

"I like this shirt on you," Victor reiterates. He leans down and gives Yuuri's neck a kiss. Yuuri turns his head to give him room and Victor cups his head with one hand, using the other to keep holding him close, as if he might escape.

"You should go," Yuuri says, as Victor kisses up to his jawline.

"Go where?" Victor murmurs into the corner of his jaw.

"Practice. You should go to practice. Victor--" But Victor cuts him off when he gets to his mouth. Yuuri meets him in the kiss, threads his fingers through his hair as his mouth drops open. It's an invitation that Yuuri promptly takes away when he steps backwards.

Victor makes a whining sound he is not at all ashamed of.

"I--" Yuuri licks his lips as he adjusts his glasses. "You need to go."

Victor really doesn't. Victor really needs to stay right here. All of each of their problems could be solved so easily if they just stayed right here, in the middle of Victor's living room, kissing for the rest of their lives.

But he knows Yuuri will feel guilty later if he learns Victor was late to practice.

So Victor asks, "You'll be all right?"

"Of course," Yuuri says.

"If you need anything, just ask Makkachin where it is. And text me," Victor tells him as he reaches for his gym bag.

"When? What do you want me to say?" Yuuri asks.

Victor reaches up and runs this thumb across Yuuri's cheek. He says, "I don't care, just text me."

Yuuri bites his lip and nods. Victor wonders if he's thinking of all the texts he never replied to.

Victor is a moment away from reassuring him about it, but the right words don't come to him. So he kisses Yuuri's forehead instead.

 

To Victor's surprise, it takes him interrupting his own practice seven times to check for text messages before Yakov's patience finally wears out.

"Is it too much to ask for you to act like a professional for one of your few practices left before the GPF, Victor?" Yakov growls.

Victor balances his phone, with its empty message screen, back on the boards. It's less that he's worried about Yuuri, if he's honest, than that he's looking forward to the novelty of getting a text from him. He turns around.

"Come now, when have I ever been a professional?" he asks.

Yakov lets out a loud sigh. "Maybe you can give me some focus in exchange for the favors I'm calling in to get your wayward boyfriend some rink time?"

"Fiance," Victor corrects. Then pauses. "Wait, is he my fiance again? I'm not sure."

Yakov shakes his head as he hands Victor a bottle of water. "Seriously, Vitya, only you could get yourself into a situation where you don't know if you're engaged or not."

"How am I supposed to find out, then?"

He waits patiently until Yakov's done staring at him in disbelief. It's the third most common expression he's used to seeing on the man, and the way his thick wrinkles draw in with his brows is rather fascinating.

"Well, you both speak English," Yakov says finally. "You could start from there."

"Oh!" Victor says. "This conversation reminds me, I need my ring back."

It's been in Yakov's possession ever since he'd caught Victor, yet again, trying to wear it before the plane left for Osaka.

Victor had attempted to bribe Yurio into breaking into Yakov's office to look for it. But he had refused. Even flattering him with 'because you're small and sneaky like a cat' hadn't persuaded him.

Yakov sighs noisily. "Fine. How about you get your ring back if you don't check your phone one more time during this practice?"

"But what if Yuuri texts?" Victor asks. "He's all alone in a new country! And, you should have seen him, he didn't even bring a proper winter coat. Yakov, he could freeze!"

"You have--" Yakov looks at his watch and sighs. "Only twenty-five more minutes of rink time. If he passes from hypothermia before then, you can blame me. Now, Vitya, if you want your ring back, run through that step sequence again and try to look like you wouldn't rather be anywhere else. I'd like you to get one or two presentation points in Marseilles."

 

Yakov is going through his final critique of Victor's practice when something occurs to Victor.

"Why is it so hard to get Yuuri rink time, anyways?" he interrupts. "It wasn't going to be a problem when he was going to train here last year."

"It wasn't a problem because you threatened not to come back if you weren't allowed to coach Katsuki here," Yakov tells him. "Now, about that flip--"

"Oh, is that all?" Victor says. "Well, I could do that again--"

"Don't," Yakov says firmly. "We have it handled. We should be able to get some time arranged for Katsuki starting tomorrow."

"You're the best, Yakov!" Victor throws his arms around him. Yakov attempts to manfully extricate himself and Victor holds on tighter before letting him go. "Can I have my phone now?"

Apparently Yakov's given up on post-practice feedback, because he just hands Victor his phone. Victor presses in the power button. He doesn't see why Yakov had to turn it all the way off.

"You should know, if you're planning to come in later tonight you'll have to use your key," Yakov says.

"But Yuuri's here," Victor says distractedly as he waits for his phone to boot up. "Why would I come back later if he can't come?"

"It's the security guard's daughter's first ballet performance," Yakov continues anyways. "I told him he could leave at seventeen-thirty."

"Okay?" Victor grins as Yuuri's message finally appears.

"So there won't be anyone here after eighteen-hundred," Yakov emphasizes. "You'll have to use your own key. But the night security guard will be here by twenty-one hundred as usual."

Victor finally glances back up at him. "Isn't that a bit reckless leaving the rink unguarded?"

Yakov rolls his eyes as if Victor is missing something and...

"Oh, wait. I get it. You're the--"

"The best, I know," Yakov says. Victor's already texting Yuuri as Yakov waves him away. "Now, get out of here already."

 
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                     ♥♥♥ YUURI!!! ♥♥♥
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                 -- Thu, 11/17, 11:24 --
    
    
                  I've been waiting 7 months to <
    
    
                            cheer for you again.
    
    
                 -- Mon, 11/21, 07:46 --
    
    
                                     I'm sorry. <
    
    
                 -- Mon, 11/28, 16:03 --
    
    
         > Hi Victor, how is practice?
    
    
                   Yuuri!!! Yakov took my phone < 
    
    
                      I'm sorry this is so late!  
    
    
                   I'm coming back now and have < 
    
    
                      good news. Get your skates  
    
    
                                         ready!!  
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
         |
    
    
        ------------------------------------------

 

"Are you sure this is okay?" Yuuri asks as Victor leads him gloved hand in gloved hand on the walk back to rink.

"It's fine, Yuuri!" Victor says, grinning. "Stop worrying. Yakov practically begged me to bring you. It would be rude not to come."

Yuuri gives him a skeptical look that's interrupted by him having to take his glasses off and wipe the snow off them. It makes Victor laugh. He squeezes his hand. Yuuri might not be 'okay' and Victor definitely has not been okay but they're together now and maybe...

Victor stops and tugs Yuuri around, catching him with the same hand holding his skate bag when his boots threaten to slip on the icy sidewalk.

"What are you doing?"

He pulls Yuuri closer. Even through the ten layers of clothing and coats between them, Yuuri feels right next to him.

"Moya lyubov," he says, and leans in and gives him a soft kiss.

"Victor!" Yuuri squeals. "Your lips are cold!"

It's hard to tell with the streetlight reflecting off Yuuri's glasses, but for a moment, Victor thinks his eyes are laughing.

"So are yours," Victor protests. "I'm just too polite to complain."

Yuuri just drags Victor forward by their entwined hands. "You're ridiculous. Let's go."

 

Victor unlocks the side door to the lobby. The lights are off, but dim light floods the hallway to the rink and then he hears the sound of skates on ice.

"Victor!" Mila calls as soon as they step through the entrance to the rink. "Did you bring Yuuri?"

Victor grins and steps inside, tugging Yuuri along with him. He watches Yuuri give her a shy smile.

"Hi, Mila," he says. Yuri skates over to the boards glaring at both of them and he adds, "Privyet, Yurio."

"Don't pretend to speak Russian, katsudon," Yuri says. "Took you long enough to get here."

Yuuri glances up at Victor, small frown marring his brow. "We walked. It was snowing. I think it was faster than a taxi?"

Yuri exhales impatiently. "Not what I meant. But what are you waiting for now? Get your skates on."

Yuuri frowns, "I didn't know you'd both be practicing now, I don't want to interrupt."

"Just get your skates on, katsudon," Yuri says, rolling his eyes.

"We heard you'd be here," Mila says, coming up behind Yuri. She ruffles his hair and he slaps at her hand violently. "We thought we'd say hi since you're going to be training here now."

Victor's watches Yuuri frown says, "But my rink's in Vancouver."

"Looks like you're here right now, though," Yuri says, eyes fixed on Yuuri.

"Oh, I--yes. That is, I'm just hoping they can find me a training time that doesn't interfere with anyone else."

"His coach came all the way from Vancouver, isn't that great, Yuri?" Victor says with enthusiasm.

Yuri just gives him a look, then says, "Get your skates on, katsudon, we don't have all night."

 

Victor gets out of the shower, runs a comb and gel through his hair, then slings a towel low around his waist. The apartment is warm and he intentionally doesn't dry off all the drops of water beading over his chest and he heads for the living room.

He doesn't have an excuse for not putting his nightclothes on except that he's already imagining Yuuri's widened eyes when he sees him bare-chested and tries to pretend he's not checking Victor out.

Victor has his smirk readied.

But when he steps into the living room, he hears Phichit's voice.

Yuuri's sitting on the couch, still in Victor's smallest warmup suit, phone propped up on the table and video chatting with Phichit. He doesn't seem to notice Victor posing provocatively in the doorway.

"No, Phichit, I know you were worried, I'm sorry I didn't text you."

"It's okay, Yuuri! I saw Victor's instagram so I knew you were there. I was just worried when--"

"I know," Yuuri cuts him off. "I got that from your texts. But I wasn't--I mean. You didn't need to worry like that. I was just. Tired, I guess."

Victor backs up into the bedroom. Despite what Yakov and Yuri and everyone else might say, he knows his moments. And this, apparently, isn't one of them.

So he puts on a pair of sweats and a shirt and heads back out, readying his charming smile this time to say hello to Phichit and beg Yuuri to come to bed.

If now isn't the time for seduction, it's at least time for him to make up for the sleepless night before. But he's not going to lie down in a bed without Yuuri in it.

He's about to step into the living room again when Phichit's voice again makes him pause

"Okay, Yuuri." Then Phichit asks, in a bright voice, "So, you and Victor are back together now?"

"What?" Yuuri asks, voice pitched high. "No, of course not. I mean. No, I don't think so."

"Really?" Phichit asks, voice surprised. "But you're going to get back together?"

"Um," Yuuri says. His voice lowers, but still carries clearly into the hallway. "I don't think that's going to happen. Nothing's changed, you know that."

Victor stills. His ears are ringing and he can't even hear Phichit's response. He turns back to the bedroom, ready to try his entrance for the third time. This time he'll just close the bathroom door loudly. Maybe make Yuuri think he's just come out of the shower. He won't let him know he heard this and Victor will just be prepared. Prepared for when Yuuri leaves and--

But, god, Victor is so, so tired.

He's too tired to do it.

 

"So," Victor interrupts whatever it is Phichit's saying.

Yuuri startles and looks up at him from the couch with big eyes.

"Nothing's going to happen between us?" Victor demands before Yuuri can say anything. His words are angry but when they come out they just sound defeated. "Were you planning to tell me this?"

Yuuri's hands fist nervously at his sides. His mouth drops open but nothing comes out.

"Oh thank god one of you found your words," comes Phichit's tinny voice from Yuuri's phone. Victor glances sharply at it and there's a ding of a dropped call.

He turns back to Yuuri, and kneels down in front of where he's sitting on the couch.

"What did I do wrong?" he asks.

"Nothing, Victor! Nothing." Yuuri shakes his head vehemently.

"Just tell me what I can do," Victor begs. Why should he be above begging? "I'll do anything. Give me a chance to prove to you that I--"

"Victor, stop!" Yuuri interrupts, his eyes are red-rimmed already. "Stop. Don't say that."

"Why?" Victor asks. He places a hand on Yuuri's thigh and Yuuri doesn't flinch away, so he leaves it there.

"Can you honestly say that you want this? Want me?" Yuuri asks.

"Of course, Yuuri!"

"That you're not going to regret it?"

"Yes!"

"Then you're wrong," Yuuri says softly. "I'm weak and broken--"

"You're not," Victor argues.

"Yes, I am." Yuuri leaps to his feet, crossing his arms, eyes dark and fierce. "Stop refusing to see who I am, Victor! Because I am only ever going to hold you back. I worry too much, so much I start panicking sometimes. And I've been so sad that sometimes I'll do anything just to feel better for a little while, and--"

"Yuuri, Yuuri, Yuuri," Victor says, standing up, too. Yuuri's arms are still crossed tight around himself. He runs his hands over his thin shoulders and says, "I know all these things."

"You don't."

"I know you killed yourself in the Cup of China for no reason," he says.

"Everyone knows that," Yuuri says.

"I know you skated for a week on a sprained ankle," Victor says.

Yuuri shrugs, though it's not as casual as he probably wants it to look. "So you talked to my coach."

"I know you binge eat and that's why your diet is cut back to almost nothing," he says.

Yuuri grits his teeth. "You already knew that."

"You didn't do that last year."

Yuuri just gives him a dark look. So Victor sighs and continues.

"I know you go out drinking. I know you show up at practice hung-over," he continues and Yuuri flinches at that.

"I know--" Victor lets him go of him to pick up his own phone from the table. He taps a few times and hands it to him. Yuuri frowns down at it, then Victor watches as his eyes widen. "Keep swiping," he tells him.

"What--" Yuuri says. He glances up at Victor with horrified eyes, then back down. "Where did these even come from?"

"You're the world figure skating champion," he says wryly. People like to take pictures. It happens to the best of us."

"But I didn't know. What--"

"Phichit and Chris have been keeping them off SNS somehow," Victor says with a shrug.

"But you -- why did you see them?" Yuuri asks, still looking horrified. "Why would you have them saved?"

Victor doesn't have a good answer to that question. He could say he saved them to remind himself that they weren't together anymore. He could say that he would take any news of Yuuri, no matter if it tears him apart.

But the truth is, he doesn't really know. Just that he pushed 'save' on every single one.

"I know one more thing," Victor says in lieu of an answer. He takes his phone back from Yuuri's limp hand. "Lie down on the couch."

"What?"

"Lie down," Victor tells him and heads towards the kitchen. He pours a glass of water, then grabs an ice pack and his first aid kit. When he walks back into the living room, Yuuri is lying on the couch like he told him to, watching Victor as he sits on table next to him.

"Victor, what are you doing?" Yuuri asks. His eyes are wet and Victor reaches out with his thumb and wipes it away.

"You're doing the same thing with your knee that you did with your ankle," Victor tells him. "You're injured. I knew something was wrong last night when I watched you skating. I should have known what it was. But tonight I saw it again. It's from your free skate in Toronto, isn't it?"

His track pants are loose enough on Yuuri to easily push them up for his knee. Victor sets the ice pack on it gently and picks up his phone, taps away from the half-focused photo of Yuuri kissing another man in a nightclub and he opens the timer and sets it.

Then he grabs a handful of Nuprofen and hands them to Yuuri along with the water.

"Drink," he says with a wink. "I'm not drugging you, I promise."

Yuuri shakes his head but swallows the pills. He says, "It's not a big deal, Victor."

"You're the world champion figure skater, Yuuri," Victor says. He puts the water glass down on the table, and then can't resist running his hand down Yuuri's bare calf. "If you're hurt, it is a big deal. There's a lot of us who'd like to keep things that way."

"It wasn't supposed to be this way," Yuuri says.

Victor knows. Yuuri wasn't supposed to win World's. Yuuri isn't supposed to win the Grand Prix Final. Perhaps that's why Yuuri was so careless as to fly to St Petersburg now, knowing he'd lose precious days of training.

He tries to push that thought away and gives the honed muscle of Yuuri's calf a light squeeze.

"We don't always get what we want," he tells him, with a sad quirk of a smile.

Yuuri shakes his head. "Victor, I--"

The timer goes off. Yuuri startles and Makkachin, who'd slept through everything else, lets out a woof from the bedroom.

Victor just taps the off button on his phone and gently lifts the ice pack off Yuuri's knee. He takes the knee tape from his first aid kit and holds it up.

Yuuri scoots around on the couch without being asked and lifts his leg so his knee is straight in Victor's lap. As if there was no question that Victor would do it for him. As if it was a year ago and Victor was still his coach there to take care of him.

They're both silent as Victor wraps the bandage tight around his knee. He puts everything he can into it. He knows it's ridiculous. It's not as if Yuuri will look down, see the perfect wrapping, that he could have easily done himself, and see that Victor can take care of him, after all.

"I'm retiring after the Grand Prix Final," Victor tells him suddenly. Even though he hadn't thought about it before. "Whether or not you want me back."

"Of course I want you, Victor," Yuuri says without a pause. Then he slaps his hand over his mouth. Obviously, he hadn't meant to say that.

"Then--" Victor starts.

"But," Yuuri adds quickly. He tugs his pant leg back down as he sits straight up. "All those things about me you just told me. You forgot the worst of it. That I selfishly came here and distracted you in the middle of your training for the Grand Prix Final. And it's because I'm broken and I'm weak and--"

"Then let me care of you!" Victor exclaims. He slides down to the floor and kneels before him again, gripping both his thighs. "Please, just let me help you, then."

"Don't you get it?" Yuuri asks. "I've never been anything but a burden to you. You already spent a year taking care of me, a year you could have spent skating. And I didn't even get gold."

"And it was still the best year of my life," Victor says.

But Yuuri's shaking his head.

"Yuuri," Victor corrects him in a low voice. "Look around you. I live alone in an empty apartment. There was nothing in my fridge before you came. I let Yakov's choreographer make my programs this year because I couldn't care anymore. You saw the video of me trying to land a quad drunk on a frozen river. Ask Makkachin, ask Yakov, ask anyone. Maybe you're broken, but I am a disaster without you."

Victor's looking dead in Yuuri's eyes and sees them widen, then get wet again as Victor talks.

There's a long pause and then Yuuri says, softly, "I'm in Vancouver."

Victor grabs Yuuri's hands in his. "I'll follow you there."

"I have a coach," Yuuri says, voice still soft.

"Lyubov moya, I'd be your coach again in a heartbeat. There's almost nothing I would want more," Victor says. "But you have to know that's not what I'm asking you for right now."

Yuuri looks down. Victor tightens his grip on his hands.

"We could go back to Vancouver," Victor says. "You could stay with me here. We could go to Hasetsu. Anywhere you want. I'd follow you there."

There's another long pause. Victor lifts Yuuri's hands and kisses them. He is about to beg again.

But then Yuuri says, "Okay."

"Okay?" Victor repeats. He feels his whole body light up. He looks up at Yuuri looking down at him. He can feel the grin on his face and he's about to grab Yuuri into a kiss, when Yuuri keeps talking.

"I'm here until the Grand Prix Final," Yuuri says. "We can decide then."

Victor collapses his head onto Yuuri's lap. He isn't sure if he should laugh or cry right now. What did he do to get himself stuck in this terrible cycle of deja vu?

"Victor?" Yuuri asks. He feels Yuuri's fingers run through his hair.

"Okay," Victor says into Yuuri's lap. "The Grand Prix Final."

Yuuri caresses Victor's hair silently for a long moment.

"You still haven't slept, have you?" he asks.

Victor too tired to say anything else, so he makes a noise that Yuuri must take as assent.

"I'll be there," Yuuri says hesitantly. "I mean, if you don't want to wake up alone. I'll be there. I promise."

Victor nods against Yuuri's thigh, and then mumbles, "I love you." He's not sure which language he says it in.


	11. November, Part 7

NOVEMBER, cont'd

 

It's like one of the college essays Yuuri had had to write in Detroit. Start with a thesis in the first paragraph. Come up with supporting arguments in the next paragraphs. The conclusion should be a restatement of the thesis using the prior arguments as evidence.

 

> Thesis: Yuuri Katsuki is a burden and should not be in Victor Nikiforov's life.
> 
> Supporting arguments 1 through 100: Yuuri is weak. Yuuri is desperate and look at all the desperate things he's done this year. When Victor and Yuuri have been together, Yuuri has done nothing but hold him back. Yuuri didn't even get a gold medal to prove Victor's time had been worth it.
> 
> Conclusion: Victor begs Yuuri to stay with him.

Yuuri's English 101 professor would make him re-do the assignment.

 

Yuuri combs his fingers through Victor's fine, silver hair. From a distance, Victor's like the carved marble of the onsen's statues. Up close, he is soft.

"You still haven't slept, have you?" Yuuri asks quietly. He remembers what Victor said this morning like the point of a knife, so he adds, "I'll be there. I mean, if you don't want to wake up alone. I'll be there. I promise."

 

He leads Victor to bed, somehow convinces Makkachin to move over, and pulls back the covers.

Victor grabs his wrist as Yuuri steps away.

"Where are you going? Don't go. Stay," Victor says, voice muffled like he's already half-asleep.

"I need to shower," Yuuri says gently.

"Oh." Victor seems to need a moment to process this so that he's willing to let go of Yuuri.

 

Yuuri gets out of the bathroom and puts on Victor's comfortably oversized clothes. He's about to crawl into the bed, where Victor looks like he's truly sleeping now, but the pain in his knee stops him.

Victor would be unhappy if he didn't re-wrap his knee after his shower, and he's unhappy enough.

Once Yuuri's done, he heads back to bed. Makkachin left space for him next to Victor, so Yuuri crawls in right behind him. He hesitates. And then wraps his arm around Victor's chest.

Victor, in his sleep, shifts back into him, and Yuuri holds him tighter.

He leans his head against Victor's back and whispers, "Please don't give up on me."

He stays awake, feeling guilty about saying that, even if Victor didn't hear.

So he whispers, "Never mind."

And then he can go to sleep.

 

Yuuri wakes to his own annoying ringtone and fumbles for his phone on the bedside table, trying to catch it before it wakes Victor up.

"Hello, Allison?" Yuuri says quietly. He should go to the other room to talk but he doesn't want to leave the bed. During the night they've ended up in the opposite position, Victor holding him snug around the waist, legs tangled together.

"Yuuri, I know it's early, but we've just gotten you practice time," he hears her say.

"Oh, that's good."

"It's in half an hour. I'm sending a car right now, will you be ready?"

Yuuri glances at the time on his phone. Four o'clock. He wonders how late he and Victor were up last night.

"Of course," Yuuri says. "And I'm so sorry, Coach. I--"

"There will be time for that later," she cuts him off, but sounds more tired than unkind. "Just be ready."

"I will be. I promise I will do my best!" Yuuri says.

 

He dresses in the same tracksuit Victor had loaned him last night. It will work as long as he's not practicing any of his tighter moves. He thinks idly that he hopes Leo packed his tights so he can do ballet with Yuri. And then feels a twinge of embarrassment that he had so blatantly panicked and left Vancouver that he needed someone else to pack his clothes.

He glances at Victor asleep in bed. His arms are cuddled around Makkachin now. If Yuuri was Phichit he'd be taking a photo for instagram right now.

But Yuuri is Yuuri and he promised Victor he'd be there when he woke up. So he leans on his knee over the bed. He touches Victor's shoulder and calls his name.

Victor makes a murmur of agreement but doesn't sound like he's awake at all.

"Victor," Yuuri says more loudly. In the hall light he'd turned on, he watches Victor's eyes flutter open, can see the striking blue as he turns to face him.

Then he seems to fully wake up and when he sees that Yuuri's not in bed beside him but fully dressed. He leans up on an elbow and frowns.

"I'm sorry," Yuuri says. "I don't know if I should have woken you, but I promised I would be here when you woke up."

"And you are here," Victor says. He reaches up and cups Yuuri's face with a lotion-smooth hand. But then he frowns. "But you're going. What time is it?"

"Early," Yuuri says quickly. "They got me rink time right now so I have to go."

"I'll come with you," Victor says immediately and starts to sit up.

Yuuri tries to push him back down onto the bed. "You need to go back to sleep. I'll be fine. They're sending a car for me."

"But--"

"Go back to sleep," Yuuri tells him. "I just wanted to be here, because you sounded like you wanted me to?"

Victor smiles and rubs his thumb over his cheekbone.

"Thank you," he says. His voice is still scratchy with sleep.

Yuuri turns away but Victor catches him by the wrist before he can leave the room.

"Come back here," Victor says. Yuuri hesitantly lets Victor pull him back to the bed. Victor leans up and kisses him on the lips.

"Happy birthday, lyubov moya," he says.

"Oh," Yuuri breathes. After all the travel, Yuuri could hardly even keep track of what date it was. He knows he shouldn't be surprised Victor knew, though. "Thank you. But -- what does lyubov moya mean? You say it a lot."

Victor tilts his head at him, eyes assessing, and then he tells him, "'Moya' is 'my'. I will let you figure out what 'lyubov' means."

Yuuri nods and licks his lips. Victor's still close enough to kiss again, so Yuuri does. Yuuri leans into it and moans when Victor's tongue meets his. Victor's arms go around his neck and Yuuri kisses him until his phone goes off in his pocket.

He doesn't need to check the message to know it's telling him that the driver's here.

He pulls back. "Victor? I--"

There are so many things he needs to say. After five years in the States, he still can't find the right words in English.

Though he doubts he would fare much better in Japanese, either.

"I'll see you at the rink later?" Yuuri finishes.

"Of course, lyubov moya," Victor says. There's a sparkle in his eyes, and less sadness behind it than usual.

Yuuri tells him, "Now you're just doing it on purpose."

"Ah, but I always say it on purpose!" Victor calls after him.

 

Allison stops Yuuri before he can fully prostrate himself in apology.

"Look," she says. "What's done is done. We're in St Petersburg now. We have ice time. It's not as much rink time as I would have liked you to have and the facilities aren't much compared to what we have in Vancouver, but it will be sufficient."

"Yes, Coach," Yuuri says, keeping his head bowed.

"Now, I know we talked about this before, but have you given it more thought? Do you think it's wise to have the top two skaters in the world living together right before the Grand Prix Finals?"

"Because of the press?" Yuuri asks, suddenly aware he hadn't even thought about that.

She shakes her head. "Oh, the press is on our heels already, Yuuri. You left training to fly to St Petersburg all of a sudden, after all. You'll have to do interviews explaining yourself, if not for your own reputation, than to reassure your country and your sponsors."

"Oh," he says.

"No, I'm asking about staying with Victor because he is your main competition. Do you really think you can balance that with properly preparing for Marseilles?"

"He was going to be my coach and my competitor this year," Yuuri says in a small voice. He regrets the wistfulness he can hear in his words. He knows he made the right decision. He knows. He knows.

He doesn't know anything anymore.

"From what I've heard, he was going to be your _fiance_ and your coach and your competitor," Allison says.

"Right," Yuuri agrees softly.

"And remember that you thought the better of it before," she says. And then sighs. "Look, I just want you to think about what you're doing here. I'm not going to pressure you because I'm not here to get involved in your personal life, Yuuri. But I'm afraid your personal life is getting involved in your skating and you hired me to make you win. I think we've done a damn good job together, don't you?"

Yuuri has to nod at that. Not just out of politeness, but because they have. She's made him a winner even when he didn't want to be one.

"All right." She gestures towards the ice. "Let's make use of our practice time. Get warmed up and then we'll go over our training plan for today."

 

As Yuuri skates, he hears 'he was going to be your fiance and your coach and your competitor'. Yuuri had chosen one of those things for Victor to be.

Had he chosen the right one?

He skates a figure in the middle of the rink.

Could he have chosen two out of three?

He hears Allison calling for him, saying he's warmed up enough.

Is it possible he'd chosen wrong by making a choice at all?

 

When Yuuri finishes the last run-through of his free skate, he sees Victor standing at the boards next to Allison. He skates over and Allison hands him a water bottle.

"Victor! You didn't have to come so early," he tells him.

"It was on my way," Victor says.

"On your way?" Yuuri repeats skeptically.

"To the rink," Victor says with a wink. "By the way, you traveled a bit on your second spin. You need to pay better attention to where your arms are."

"Victor, if I may," Allison starts.

"What?" Victor asks, and then says. "Oh! Right. And your quad flip, Yuuri, you're positioning yourself to underrotate. The way you're making up for it is getting you the rotations but it's also putting you off balance in your landing. I think that's what happened at Toronto. Look, I'll show you what I mean." He bends down and starts to remove his skate guards.

"Victor," Allison says again. "Perhaps I could talk to you?"

"Actually," Victor muses, turning to her. "Now that I think of it, are you sure you want Yuuri practicing full programs at all right now? You don't think he should mark his jumps for a couple days until his knee heals?"

Yuuri groans inwardly and covers his face with his hands.

"His knee?" Allison asks. "Yuuri, what's wrong with your knee?"

"Yuuri," Victor says in that familiar low reprimanding tone. "You didn't tell Allison?"

"Um," Yuuri says, peeking out through his fingers. "I was getting to it?"

Victor sighs in dramatic disappointment. "I'm getting you some ice."

"I'll join you," Allison says. "Yuuri, practice time's over. We'll go over whatever's going on with your knee in a minute."

 

Yuuri sits on the bench untying his skates and trying not to be disconcerted by being alone in the Russian team's rink.

Bright lights illuminate it through the morning darkness outside. Russian flag after Russian flag covers the walls. The only other decoration is a photo of the president. The rink is plain and clean. And, even though the plaster walls are chipped and painted over and the benches creak, the ice is pristine. Each time he's stepped out on it in the last few days he's reminded that this is where The Victor Nikiforov trained.

This is an unanticipated definition of skating on the same ice as Victor.

He's untying his second skate when he startles at a noise behind him and it's not coming from the door Allison and Victor had disappeared through.

His heart calms, but only a little, when he sees it's Yakov Feltsman and Georgi walking in from the hallway.

Georgi looks plain and ordinary without his costume makeup, and he doesn't look surprised to see him. He just gives him a nod as he sits down with his skate bag across the aisle.

Yakov heads straight for Yuuri.

Yuuri stands hurriedly, one foot in socks, the other skate still only half-untied.

"Mr Feltsman," he says, bowing his head. "I'm very sorry for imposing on you and your team. I thank you for letting me practice here."

Yakov doesn't say anything, and when Yuuri looks up anxiously, he's giving him an calculating look. Yuuri waits for him to speak.

"You better not be toying with that boy," Yakov finally says.

"I promise I won't distract him," Yuuri assures him. "He deserves to win the Grand Prix Finals."

Yakov sighs and shakes his head. "The better man deserves to win, whether that's Vitya or not."

Yuuri bites his lip.

"Just don't mess up the quad flip this time," Yakov says, and then turns and walks over to Georgi, speaking words in Russian that Georgi silently nods to.

Victor and Allison take longer than they should. When they come back into the rink, Victor's the one carrying the ice. He kneels next to Yuuri and starts unwrapping his knee while Allison gives him an unhappy look but starts talking to Yuuri about his programs. A few times, Victor opens his mouth as if he's going to interrupt, but a sharp glance from Yuuri's coach has him shutting it again.

 

While the Seniors have their free skate time, Yuuri spends the rest of the morning in off-ice practice. The weight room is as clean and as worn as the rest of the building. The carpet is thin and there are frayed holes where the concrete shows through.

Yuuri has used kettlebells in his training for years but has never seen so many lined up in a row. He thinks of how Victor had paid a ridiculous price for the shipment of three different weights of them for his training in Hasetsu.

There are a few machines he doesn't recognize and more that he's been used to using lately that aren't here. But he knows enough body weight exercises to target all the same muscles they do.

Allison doesn't oversee the strength training practices in Vancouver. They have other trainers for that. She'd brought a copy from them of his scheduled Tuesday lower body exercises. But she ends up telling him to just do core training instead to rest his knee.

She types on her laptop while Yuuri does crunches and planks. Her usually young features are drawn and there are dark circles under her eyes. Even her short black hair isn't as meticulously combed as usual. Yuuri wonders when her flight got in and if she's gotten any sleep since then, and feels guilty all over again.

Georgi and a couple of the junior skaters come to join him in the weight room. The juniors stare at him with wide eyes and Yuuri hears them whispering to each other. They seem to recognize him, because he can make out 'Yuuri Katsuki' said more than once.

Yuuri's stretching out in side splits when the brown-haired one, who must be twelve or thirteen, approaches him shyly and asks him something in Russian.

"I'm sorry. Do you know English?" Yuuri asks, trying to enunciate the words.

From an exercise bike, Georgi laughs and translates, "He's asking for your autograph."

Yuuri stares at the boys for a moment that probably lasts long enough to make him look reluctant rather than surprised. He says, "Yes, of course. Da."

The boy runs out of the room while Yuuri switches to front splits. He comes back flushed and holding out a pen and composition book.

Yuuri writes out his usual message to young skaters ("Good luck to you! Do you best!").

Then there's some kind of argument between the juniors boys that culminates in Yuuri signing a different page in the book. The first boy tears it out and hands it to the other one.

Yuuri glances over at his coach and she looks back at him with an amused smile.

The boys are working with a couple of the smaller weights when Yuuri has a thought. He looks up at Georgi on the bike.

"Uh, Georgi? Sorry to interrupt, can I ask you something?"

Georgi takes out one of his earbuds.

"Do you know what 'lyubov' means?" Yuuri asks.

"Lyubov?"

"As in 'lyubov moya' or 'moya lyubov'?" he asks.

"Yes, of course. Love," Georgi tells him. "My love."

"I thought that was 'lyublyu'?" Yuuri says before he can stop himself. He might have once, to his own personal embarrassment, looked up how to say 'I love you' online in Russian.

"'Lyublyu' means 'I love'," Georgi says. "'Lyubov moya' means 'my love'."

"Oh," Yuuri says. He stares down at the mat he's stretching out on.

Georgi sighs. "I can barely remember the last time I had someone to say that to."

"I'm sorry." Yuuri doesn't know what else to say.

 

Yuuri stays through Victor's practice after asking Victor twice and Yakov once if it's okay that he does.

He's sitting on the bench, watching Victor repeat his triple axel to Yakov's dissatisfaction each time so far, when he's suddenly startled by Yurio shoving a paper bag at him.

"What?" Yuuri asks.

"I said, take it," Yurio says forcefully.

Yuuri does. He cautiously looks inside. "Oh, thank you."

"Katsudon pirojki," Yurio says.

"I see." Yuuri feels his chest tighten with an emotion he can't name. "Thank you, Yurio, but I can't eat these. You know I have a diet plan."

"You're too skinny, pig. Just eat them." Yurio looks like he's about to leave, but then adds, "S dnyom rojdeniya."

"What's that?"

"Since you're trying to learn Russian," he says. "S dnyom rojdeniya."

"S dnyom rojdeniya," Yuuri repeats. Even to his ear, it sounds barely like what Yurio said.

And, true enough, Yurio makes him repeat it five times before he gets it close to his satisfaction.

"What does it mean?" Yuuri finally asks, suddenly suspicious that it's something vulgar.

"It means happy birthday," Yurio tells him.

"Oh, that's--" Yuuri glances at the bag in his hand. The last thing Yuuri deserves, after everything, is this. But he stands up, pulls Yurio into a hug, and says, "Thank you, Yurio."

Yurio makes a show of fighting the hug without actually fighting it.

When Yuuri releases him, Yurio says, "Bring your ballet shoes tomorrow. You're coming to practice with me."

There's no room for question in his voice, so Yuuri nods. He would normally have some kind of dance practice anyways on Wednesdays.

Yurio's a few steps towards the door when he turns back.

"And I remembered before Victor told me, you know."

"Victor told you it was my birthday?" Yuuri asks. Though he supposes he should have guessed. It explains the 'happy birthdays' from Mila and Georgi and another seniors skater who hadn't yet made it past nationals.

Yurio rolls his eyes. "Victor's been telling everyone. Not as if anyone cares."

"Right," Yuuri says. He gives Yurio a smile. "Thank you again."

"Whatever."

Yuuri looks into the bag again. He wonders if pirojki will be a tradition for his birthday. He thinks guiltily that he needs to learn when Yurio's is.

 

"I didn't know what to get you," Victor says as he walks Yuuri down the road that night.

"Victor, you shouldn't get me anything," Yuuri tells him. As good as Yurio's pirojki were when he'd shared them with Victor for dinner, he wishes it wasn't his birthday today. Or ever, really. Why can't he just silently get older each year? "It's too awkward getting attention I've done nothing to deserve, anyways."

"What? Moya lyubov, you deserve the world!" Victor exclaims, and hugs him with both arms around his waist even as they both keep walking.

Luckily the sidewalk has been salted, or they'd both be falling down on the ice.

"I didn't know what to get you," Victor says again. "I wanted to take you to the best restaurant in St Petersburg, but Yakov said it would be rather boring when neither of our coaches would let us eat anything on the menu."

Yuuri can't help a small laugh at that.

"So I'll save that for the off-season," he says. "After you win World's. And after you get your katsudon for it, of course."

Yuuri has barely thought about Victor retiring and not being there as his competition at World's this year -- assuming Yuuri himself makes it, that is. He decides he will continue to push that thought off until later.

"And if I don't win?" Yuuri asks.

"Ah, then we will have to skip the katsudon. But I will still take you to the best restaurant!"

Yuuri shakes his head, and leans back against Victor's shoulder.

"And then," Victor says. "I thought I would get a bottle of the best champagne in St Petersburg. But Mila pointed out you might not appreciate that."

"I probably wouldn't have."

"So then I asked Georgi for advice and he started getting weird about it," Victor continues. "So I asked Yurio, and he got mad because I was calling him Yurio again. Then he told me I was an idiot. But then he asked me, what does Yuuri like more than anything else?"

"And what is that?" Yuuri asks curiously.

"Katsudon, of course. But, since that's out," Victor says mournfully. "I thought, what does Yuuri love second-most? And the answer is: ice skating!"

Victor spreads his arm in a flourish at the Sport Champions Club entrance they've just arrived at. Yuuri wouldn't be surprised if he'd timed this conversation for the perfect dramatic impact.

"I know it's not new. We've been coming every night, anyways," Victor says. The sudden self-consciousness in his voice makes Yuuri turn to look at him. "But--"

"It's perfect," Yuuri tells him.

 

Victor bans Yuuri from doing jumps, as if he's still his coach. And Yuuri listens, as if he's still his coach.

They skate together. Then, and Yuuri isn't sure who reaches out first, they end up holding hands.

Last year, they'd practiced a pair skate to Victor's Stay Close to Me for the Barcelona exhibition. But after their decisions and then re-decisions about where they stood after the GPF, Victor had silently given the organizers Yuuri's usual exhibition music.

Tonight, Yuuri, feeling brave for just a moment, asks, "Do you still remember how to do lifts?"

Victor turns to look at him. The surprise in his expression quickly turns into a smile. He releases Yuuri's hand and skates several meters backward.

Then he holds out his arms and says, "Let's find out, moya lyubov."

 

 

 

> Thesis: Yuuri Katsuki is a burden and should not be in Victor Nikiforov's life.
> 
> Supporting arguments 1 through 100: Yuuri is weak. Yuuri is desperate and look at all the desperate things he's done this year. When Victor and Yuuri have been together, Yuuri has done nothing but hold him back. Yuuri didn't even get a gold medal to prove Victor's time had been worth it.
> 
> Opposing arguments 1 through 5: "I didn't want to wake up alone", "Let me take care of you", "I am a disaster without you", "The best year of my life", "Moya lyubov".
> 
> Conclusion: ?

Yuuri's English 101 professor would warn him that there are only so many re-writes allowed before the final grades come out.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had intended the whole fic to be in Victor's POV. But, as I started this chapter, it hit me that, as the summary says, 'Yuuri needs to learn to listen and Victor needs to learn to speak', Victor has in many ways completed his journey. It is up to Yuuri now.
> 
> Also, I keep forgetting to say this, but thank you to everyone for your kind support with this fic! You're what's inspiring me onward. (That and the fact that I, too, need a happy ending.)


	12. November to December

NOVEMBER, cont'd

> EUROSPORT NEWS  
>  Nov 30 09:25
> 
> Yuuri Katsuki and his coach Allison Chang stand before the cameras by the entrance to St Petersburg's Sport Champions Club.
> 
> "We are very grateful to Russia, who has invited us to practice here and to the Russian figure skating team who has very graciously welcomed us," Chang is saying.
> 
> "Mr Katsuki, you are the current World Champion, though you were bested in Toronto by the former five-time World Champion Victor Nikiforov. What do you feel your chances are at the Grand Prix Finals?"
> 
> Katsuki glances at his coach, then back at the cameras.
> 
> "I am honored to have another opportunity to skate on the same ice as Victor," he says. "And I will try my best at the Grand Prix Finals!"
> 
> "But, if you can address an earlier question, why did you travel St Petersburg so close to the competition?"
> 
> "Can you comment on your relationship with Victor Nikiforov?"
> 
> "I'm afraid we don't have time for any more questions. My skater needs to get back to practice," Chang says. She puts her arm around Katsuki's shoulders and begins to lead him away.
> 
> "Don't you wish to comment about the rumors that you and Mr Nikiforov--"
> 
> "Wait, wait!"
> 
> The cameras turn to a figure in a Russian training uniform running up to take Katsuki and Chang's place in front of the cameras.
> 
> It is Victor Nikiforov himself.
> 
> "Mr Nikiforov?" one of the reporters starts to say, as he looks back and forth to the other reporter. Katsuki and his coach are staring at Nikiforov. They are clearly surprised as well by the interruption.
> 
> "I'm glad I caught you!" Nikiforov says, grinning at the reporters. "I was going to call my own press conference but since you are already here you've saved me the trouble."
> 
> He glances at Katsuki and Chang and asks, "Unless I am interrupting?"
> 
> "We were finished," Chang says.
> 
> "Ah, good." Nikiforov winks at the cameras. "Then I have an announcement to make!"
> 
> "Victor!" bellows a man bursting out of the entrance to the building. It's Yakov Feltsman, Nikiforov's coach. He demands in subtitled Russian, "What the hell are you doing?"
> 
> "Yakov," Nikiforov says with a grin. "Perfect timing. I was just about to make an announcement. You should hear it, too."
> 
> "Victor, get back here," Feltsman says.
> 
> But Nikiforov ignores his coach and turns back to the cameras, still smiling.
> 
> "I would like to announce I shall be retiring after the Grand Prix Finals."

 

 

DECEMBER
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                    Nikiforov, Victor
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                 -- Thu, 12/01, 09:12 --
    
    
         > Yakov's still not speaking to
    
    
          me. He's just been glaring
    
    
          all morning.
    
    
                                     I'm sorry. < 
    
    
                           Have you apologized? < 
    
    
         > You think I should
    
    
          apologize??
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
         |
    
    
        ------------------------------------------

 

...

 
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                    Nikiforov, Victor
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                  -- Fri, 12/02 14:23 --
    
    
                        Mila's taking me to the < 
    
    
                                 holiday market.  
    
    
         > That's wonderful, Yuuri!
    
    
         > I should have thought to take
    
    
          you there.
    
    
                    She said she could bring me < 
    
    
                     back to the rink or to your  
    
    
                                      apartment.  
    
    
         > Come to the rink! We'll
    
    
          practice more tonight. ☺☺☺
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
         |
    
    
        ------------------------------------------

 

...

 

Yuuri's sitting on the bench, turning his phone over in his hands and worrying at his lip as Victor kneels before him, tying his skates.

The rink is dimmed for the night and St Petersburg lights twinkle through the darkness of the wall of windows.

His skates always feel better when Victor laces them. Just on the right edge of too tight. Yuuri hasn't ever told him that. He's been afraid that if he does, Victor will feel obligated to keep doing it.

And, anyways, Yuuri has been lacing his own skates for over ten years. He doesn't need Victor to do it for him.

But Victor had said he wanted to take care of him.

What if that's true?

Victor is halfway through adjusting the laces of the second skate. Yuuri watches his silver hair fall over his face. They've both been silent so far.

What if it's not only that the skates feel better around his ankles but that Yuuri simply likes being taken care of?

He should feel ashamed. Inadequate. Imposing.

And he does. But, also--

Victor had said he wanted to take care of him.

Every day he's with Victor, Yuuri feels less broken. Like he is a broken vase and Victor is the gold gluing him back together.

Victor shouldn't have to be.

Victor had said he wanted to take care of him.

As Victor is starting to knot the laces, Yuuri gathers more courage than it should take to say this.

"Victor?"

"Yes?" Victor stops and looks up at him.

Yuuri looks back into his eyes. He's heard them described as ice blue. But they're so much warmer than the ice.

"Yuuri, is everything okay?" Victor asks.

"Yes, yes, of course," Yuuri says. He fiddles with his phone, turning it over again. "I just like when you do that."

Victor cocks his head. "When I lace up your skates?"

Yuuri nods, biting his lip again. "They feel better when you do it."

Victor's eyes widen for a moment. And then a happy grin spreads over his face. His too-warm-to-be-ice eyes sparkle. It hurts Yuuri's chest to see it.

 

...

 
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                    Nikiforov, Victor
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                 -- Sun, 12/04, 11:23 --
    
    
         > We're going to the baths
    
    
          today! Get ready.
    
    
                                           What < 
    
    
                    Why are you waking me up so < 
    
    
                           early on our day off?  
    
    
                          And where did you go? < 
    
    
         > Makkachin's taking me for a
    
    
          walk. We'll leave when we get
    
    
          back!
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
         |
    
    
        ------------------------------------------

 

...

 
    
    
    ---------------------------------   
    
    
    ---------------------------------   
    
    
    ROSTELECOM CUP   
    
    
    GRAND PRIX SERIES   
    
    
    Dec 2-4  Moscow, Russia   
    
    
    ---------------------------------   
    
    
    MEN, FINAL RESULT   
    
    
    1  [KZ] Otabek ALTIN
    
    
    2  [RU] Yuri PLISETSKY
    
    
    3  [CN] Cao BIN
    
    
    4  [CA] Jean-Jacques LEROY
    
    
    5  [IT] Michele CRISPINO
    
    
    6  [CN] Guang-Hong JI
    
    
    ---------------------------------   
    
    
    ---------------------------------   

 

...

 
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                    Nikiforov, Victor
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                 -- Mon, 12/05, 08:23 --
    
    
         > Look out. Someone's back and
    
    
          they're not happy.
    
    
                      I can see that from here. < 
    
    
                                   And hear it. < 
    
    
                                    Poor Yurio. < 
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
         |
    
    
        ------------------------------------------

 

...

 

Victor catches Yuuri into a lift and spins him around as they move together across the ice. Despite how many times they've fallen on top of each other onto the ice, his strong grip still feels secure.

Lifts only work if you trust your partner, after all.

"Do you realize what program we've been practicing?" Yuuri asks after Victor sets him down. So far, Yuuri thinks, they've been pretending they're just playing around on the ice.

"I do." Victor's eyes are cautious.

"We could play the music," Yuuri offers hesitantly. Victor's hands tighten on Yuuri's waist. "I have it on my phone."

 

...

 
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                    Nikiforov, Victor
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                  -- Wed, 12/07 17:28 --
    
    
                  Makkachin's walked and fed. I < 
    
    
                       know Yakov gave you extra  
    
    
                            practice time today.  
    
    
                           So don't hurry back. < 
    
    
         > You don't want to see me???
    
    
                             I want some actual < 
    
    
                       competition in Marseille.  
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
         |
    
    
        ------------------------------------------

 

...

 
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                    Nikiforov, Victor
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
                  -- Thu, 12/08 16:23 --
    
    
         > What do you want from the
    
    
          market?
    
    
                  We need more apples and milk. < 
    
    
                    And do they have that sweet < 
    
    
                                         cheese?  
    
    
         > I'll look! Do we need more
    
    
          bananas, too?
    
    
        ------------------------------------------
    
    
         |
    
    
        ------------------------------------------

 

...

 

Yuuri lies awake.

Victor's arms are loose around his waist. His face is buried in Yuuri's neck. Yuuri can feel his breath over his collarbone.

Yuuri grips for the ring he still wears around his neck.

His phone says that it's three in the morning.

Yuuri's running out of time. He's days, weeks, months too late. Maybe Victor will give him a reprieve but he's still late and he can't be one minute later.

So he moves away to switch on the light. In his sleep, Victor rolls over to his back. He leaves one arm outstretched as if he's waiting for Yuuri to come back.

"Victor?" Yuuri says as he scoots back over into his space.

Victor lets out a groan of protest.

"Victor. Wake up," Yuuri says more loudly. He sits up and straddles Victor's hips. He lands a little too hard, and Victor's eyes startle open.

"Yuuri?" Victor blinks up at him, voice rough. "What is it?"

"You were wrong," Yuuri says.

"You woke me up to tell me I was wrong?"

"Yes," Yuuri says. He's still clutching his ring in one hand. "Remember on my birthday, when you came up with the list of things I love the most?"

Victor props himself up on his elbows, bare chest on display as he runs a hand through fine, sleep-messed hair.

"You were wrong," Yuuri says.

Victor's brow creases. "What--"

"Victor," Yuuri interrupts him. "I don't want to wait until the Grand Prix Finals to decide."

Victor stares up at him.

"Ask me again," Yuuri says. His heart is pounding. He knows he's weak. He can be strong sometimes, too. He doesn't know which he's being right now. But maybe it doesn't matter.

Victor is still just staring at him.

Yuuri takes a deep breath and says, "What you asked before. Ask me again."

 

...

 
    
    
    ---------------------------------   
    
    
    ---------------------------------   
    
    
    GRAND PRIX SERIES FINAL   
    
    
    Dec 15-18  Marseille, France   
    
    
    ---------------------------------   
    
    
    MEN, FINAL RESULT   
    
    
    1  [JP] Yuuri KATSUKI
    
    
    2  [RU] Victor NIKIFOROV
    
    
    3  [CH] Christophe GIACOMETTI
    
    
    4  [TH] Phichit CHULANONT
    
    
    5  [RU] Yuri PLISETSKY
    
    
    6  [KZ] Otabek ALTIN
    
    
    ---------------------------------   
    
    
    ---------------------------------  
    
      
    
      
    
      
    
    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies! Posted the chapter without adding the GPF scores. Fixed now.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading along with Victor and Yuuri's journeys. And huge thanks for all the comments and kudos that encouraged me along the way. I can't tell you how much your feedback has meant to me!
> 
>  ~~P.S. There may be a separate fluffy epilogue coming up...~~ [EPILOGUE](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11229321)


End file.
